


Scarlet

by Freyjabee



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Bad Romance, Dark, F/M, Lies, Love, Lust, Magic Council, Tainted Love, Zeref - Freeform, siegrain - Freeform, tower of heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 10:36:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12297426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freyjabee/pseuds/Freyjabee
Summary: I want her to gasp for breath. I want her to scream my name. And when she does, I want it to be because she's helpless to do anything else. When she does, I want it to be because she needs me like I need her. When she does, I want it to be because she can't distinguish pain from pleasure. When she loves me so much it hurts… ...I'll give her to the Tower of Heaven.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I rewrote parts of this and deleted the old one. Sorry, anyone that bookmarked it.

_Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima._

 

**_ Scarlet _ **

* * *

 

_I love her and I hate her. I can't stop thinking about her._

_Erza Scarlet. Erza Scarlet. Erza Scarlet and her scarlet hair._

_I want her to come home. I want…_

_I want her to love me the way I love her. The way a flower loves the sun, until it gets too dry and dies. I want her to hurt the way she hurt me. I want her to feel that sweet pain that comes first when breaking a bone, that numbness, and then the true ache cripples and blinds._

_I want her to gasp for breath. I want her to scream my name. And when she does, I want it to be because she's helpless to do anything else. When she does, I want it to be because she needs me like I need her. When she does, I want it to be because she can't distinguish pain from pleasure._

_When she loves me so much it hurts…_

_I'll slip the knife between her ribs and give her to the Tower of Heaven._

* * *

 

The first time Erza Scarlet saw the man known as Siegrain Fernandez, she thought the breath would stall in her lungs and her heart would just stop. She wished she could say that her first reaction was to run him through with her sword, but in reality, she could only stare as he exited the Fiore branch of the Magic Council, as prim as you fucking please, head held high like he had nothing to fear—like he _belonged_. As if he _hadn't_ enslaved children, threatened her with death, and spent the last decade building a tower to resurrect the evilest mage ever to walk the land.

His dark eyes slid over to her, he the needle on a compass and she magnetic north. And he stared, his gaze burning straight through her. Erza's legs went weak with a tumult of emotions. Fear and hatred, scarred and scabbed love, rotten to the core and festering.

Her mouth was the driest it'd ever been, like she'd been wandering through the desert for days without water, and yet, she sweated, uncomfortable in her ever-present armour.

"Erza Scarlet?" His voice was deeper than she remembered, and his face was more angular. His cheekbones were more defined; his jaw sharper. For all the differences, his mouth still had that familiar hairpin curve, and that _exact same smile._ The smile she loved, but had grown to hate.

A tinny chatter told her that she shook like a leaf in a cold autumn wind.

He spoke again and she couldn't help but _memorize_ this new way his voice sounded. "Is something the matter? You look pale."

Like nothing was wrong or strange or—

He took a step toward her, white jacket shining in the late winter sunlight, and she snapped back to reality. In seconds, she had a short sword in her hand and pointed the gleaming metal unabashedly at his throat. "D-don't move." The stammer cost her, made her flounder when she wanted to sound strong and in control.

He startled back, eyes widening, mouth flat-lining. "It isn't ever wise to draw a weapon on one of the ten wizard saints."

 _One of the?_ "You're a liar, and a murderer, but you're no wizard saint, Jellal." Her words shook, sure, but her _sword_ was steady. It was still her most trusted ally.

"Master Siegrain—" A clerk came rushing out of the council building, a pretty blonde girl with light blue eyes and too-pink lips. She looked fraught with worry as her slippered feet slid over the slushy pavement. "Master Siegrain—is everything alright?"

He held up his hand to stop the woman and Erza adjusted her grip on her sword. "It's alright, Ginny. I think I know what's going on here." He looked straight through Erza, his mouth curling just slightly when he said, "Jellal Fernandez is my twin brother, a renegade and a criminal. My name is Siegrain, and I do not lie. I am who I say, a member of the council, a ten wizard saint."

For the second time in such a short period, Erza felt like her heart was stalling, her breath was dying. _It can't be._ "The King of Lies lies effortlessly." _Kill him now, before you can't_. Maybe she would have, if that clerk wasn't worrying at her bottom lip and clutching her robes tightly.

"Should I call the guards, Master Siegrain?"

He shook his head slowly, sapphire hair shining in the sun. "Leave it, Ginny. It's just a misunderstanding. Miss Scarlet is going to stand down because she doesn't want to be arrested, right? I shouldn't have to suffer for my brother's crime."

Erza let the sword drop a few inches. "Jellal never said he was a twin—"

"My brother kept many secrets." Siegrain's hair lifted from his forehead in a fierce gust of wind. His scent wrapped around Erza. He didn't smell the same as Jellal did. Then again, when she knew Jellal, he smelled like sweat and blood and tears. _Do you really see him when you look at this man?_ She studied his hazel eyes, eyes creased just lightly at the corners from smiling. She studied his mouth and the faint shadow on his cheeks. She studied his Magic Council uniform, pressed and crisp and _clean_. She lowered her sword some more so the point scratched the wet ground.

Siegrain said, "If you have unpleasant history with my brother, I imagine doing business with me would be difficult. Should you like, we can cancel and I will contact another wizard in your place—"

 _He's telling the truth_. It sort of killed Erza to do it—he just looked so much like Jellal—but she dispelled her sword and forced herself to relax. "Apologies, Master Siegrain—"

"Just Siegrain, please." He smiled just a little. Erza didn't like the way her heart flopped.

"S—Siegrain." Her stomach still felt sick, her skin still itched and she had this aggravating _urge_ to trip over her words. _Gods. Do better._ "If you'll allow for it, I would like for our agreement to stand, I should like to redeem my actions—"

"You have nothing to fear, I wasn't insulted," Siegrain told her. "It's happened more than once." Without looking over his shoulder or breaking eye contact with Erza, he said, "Ginny—you can go. There is no threat here."

The blonde puffed out her cheeks. Erza thought she'd refuse, but then she turned on her heel, short hair bobbing around her chin, and disappeared into the council building.

Siegrain stepped closer in shiny leather boots that had never touched a floor soaked in the blood of slaves. Erza couldn't help but take the opportunity to study him closely. It had been years since she'd seen Jellal, but looking at the man before her was just as good as. They were absolutely identical, right down to the tattoo that crept over his right eye. Her limbs tried to quiver again. She flexed her muscles to stop them in their tracks, but she couldn't stop her heart from beating faster.

In a honey-sweet voice that had undoubtedly convinced plenty of women he was a lamb and not a lion, he said, "You still think you're up to our agreement?"

Erza gritted her teeth. "Certainly."

* * *

 

The S class mission Siegrain had hired her for was straightforward: retrieve the pin that marked Siegrain as a member of the council and return it to him. It had been stolen a day before by a team of treasure hunters. Erza carried out the mission flawlessly, and when she was through, she returned to Siegrain and collected her reward.

In the weak winter sunlight, he caught her eye and held it so far past the point of comfort, Erza couldn't think. "You're a very impressive woman, Erza."

She'd heard the exact same compliment before out of a hundred different mouths, but this time as it was spoken with Siegrain's mouth, the mouth that looked so like Jellal's, Erza found herself truly wanting to _believe_ it. She didn't say thank you but she did blush. "Do you talk to your brother?" she asked suddenly, half curious, half needing to remind herself that _this was not Jellal_.

Siegrain's eyes flashed with an emotion she didn't recognize. "My brother is a traitor to the crown. Never."

"Of course," she replied, and felt immediately ashamed. "I didn't mean any offense."

And yet, he came back at her with, "Do you miss him?"

Erza stammered and stalled and in the end, she shook her head. She needn't be an expert on Siegrain Fernandez to know that he saw _straight_ through her.

The council door opened and Ginny came out with a stack of papers in her hands. Siegrain glanced at the girl, checked the silver watch on his wrist, and said, "Forgive me, Erza. That's my assistant coming to tell me I'm late."

"Of course." Wind grabbed her hair and made wild knots out of it.

Siegrain did the unthinkable and, like a man possessed, brushed a lock back from her face. "You have the most beautiful scarlet hair, has anyone ever told you that?"

Erza was thrust into a memory of long ago. The setting was different, she was in a cell with cold and dirty concrete biting into her skin, but the _context_ was the same. How could she keep Siegrain and Jellal separate when he came at her with the ghosts of her past?

Siegrain took his hand away and didn't even look ashamed for it. "Thank you again."

Erza mumbled something that she hoped sounded gracious. She was relieved to see that she _could_ turn away from him. She was even _more_ relieved when she didn't satisfy the _need_ she felt to look back.

* * *

 

Jellal thought once he saw Erza again that he'd never be able to let her go. But he'd proven himself wrong. Twice she'd been in arm's reach and twice he let her walk away. He'd almost slipped _so many times_. When she denied missing him? He almost told her she was a fucking liar and killed her right there. But instead, he nodded his head like a civilized man, apologized and _smiled_.

As he watched her walk away, he thought it was a good thing that their time together had come to an end, because he was going wild with want. The want to touch her. To pull her in for a bone-crushing hug. To kiss her. To get out that blade and give her a new smile.

The last sort of broke his heart. Not enough, though.

He slipped his hand into his pocket to deposit what he'd stolen while he watched Erza's back. He wanted to see the moment she glanced back, just to _ensure_ that she was as discombobulated as he was. She never did. On the other hand, she walked too quickly. While it wasn't the same as ensnaring her attention, Jellal admitted that it was _almost_ as good. She could run away. He hoped she would. Something like that would make her eventual crumble all the sweeter.

"Master Siegrain?" Ginny's voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Jellal found her and smiled, too. "Coming, Ginny."

She flushed prettily. Jellal dismissed the look. Upon entering the council building, he mounted the stairs. "I need to get my notes."

"I'll set up in the chamber hall," Ginny said.

Jellal's office was the pinnacle of tidiness. The organization was what he used to keep himself sane when all he could think about was scarlet. The notes he needed sat on top of the walnut desk. He'd intended upon a quick retrieval, but he entered and knew he had a visitor. He found Ultear lounging against the wall beneath his clock. She smiled upon seeing him.

"Did she stammer?"

"Yes."

"And shake?"

"Not as much as last time."

"Pity." Ultear crossed the room. Her fingers found his chin. "You're frustrated."

Always. Always and always. "I'm fine."

"You're a liar." She leaned in and brushed his mouth with hers despite the fact that the door was still open. Jellal let it happen, needing to feel the risk and needing to have the reward after letting Erza waltz away. He thought of scarlet. He thought of love and pain. He thought of need.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Erza Scarlet..._

_She was even more beautiful than I remembered. And wary. And volatile. And perfect. As soon as I saw her, I thought my tongue withered and died, a desiccated thing between my desert lips. But then I opened my mouth and spat out her name and it was like digging a blade into my skin. The pain was bittersweet. I still feel raw all over—the way her eyes tore me open... And her sword… I didn't expect that, but I'm glad there was some fight to her. I thought maybe she'd try to cut me open right there. Maybe she would have, if Ginny wasn't watching._

_I want to see her again. The way she looked at me... She hates me. But she cares enough to hate. So maybe a part of her loves me too. I can't wait until it's an unbearable thing._

_She wears earrings now—I think to offset her armour. Without them, I don't think she feels feminine or pretty. What a delicate center she has. Maybe I will tell her how beautiful she is and she'll believe me. Maybe I'll do it when I return what I stole—those earrings... they mean something to her—the metal is scratched and pitted, like she's worn them every day for the last ten years. Who gave them to her?_

_It doesn't matter, not really. The only thing I care about is the way she'll smile and thank me. The way she'll say my false name—maybe she'll stammer and blush. Maybe she'll wring her hands and catch her breath. I would hate this ruse if I didn't know she thought of the real me_

_Every. Single. Time._

_she saw the man I pretend to be._

_Erza Scarlet…_

_One day, you're going to kiss me and it's going to taste like poison. One day, you're going to kiss me and it's going to taste like sin. One day, you're going to kiss me and it's going to taste like everything we've ever wanted. It's going to hurt so much, we're both going to wish we could bleed instead. Maybe it'll hurt so much we both will wish we could die._

_But even though it will hurt, it will also be the most amazing thing I do._

_Or—_

_Almost._

_You take second place only to true freedom._

* * *

Alone, Erza sat upon a bench seat in the back of Fairy Tail and ate a large slice of cake while she tried to outrun the ghosts of her past. It was a failed attempt. Every time she blinked, she saw Siegrain. Jellal. Both. And sleeping the night before had been impossible. She kept remembering the way he touched her hair, gently, reverently, as if they knew each other far better than they could.

_Has anyone ever told you..._

What she wanted to say was 'Y _es_. _Your brother_.' Jellal had said she had the most beautiful scarlet hair. She still recalled the way her heart expanded that day. The way her body flushed. The way she felt like she was glowing. Like she was untouchable and beautiful, and, even though she was nothing better than a slave, she felt like she _mattered._ Sometimes, when she remembered Jellal, she went back to that day. That was the day she fell in love with him.

Instead of telling Siegrain that story, she said nothing, and slunk away like a coward, even though she longed to go back to him and ask him as many questions as she could about Jellal. What was he like as a free, untainted child? Where was he now—still at the Tower of Heaven? When was the last time they'd seen each other?

Did he ever talk about her?

_Is he in love with someone now_? Someone that wasn't her?

She'd been too afraid. The only solace she had was that, if he was to be believed, Siegrain didn't have any answers for her.

To get away from her circular thoughts, Erza pushed her hair back from her face, then crammed an overstuffed forkful of cake into her mouth. That particular piece brimmed with blue icing that tried to creep out of her lips. She struggled to swallow it all down. Mira's cakes were too good to waste, especially when she was feeling down on herself.

A commotion over by the bar had her pausing mid-chew. At first she wanted to dismiss the rising voices, thinking maybe Natsu and Gray were getting into it again—but then she heard something that made her heart stall.

"M-master Siegrain." Master Makarov's voice was creaky and unsure. "What brings you to my humble guild?"

_Nope,_ Erza thought. _Nope, nope, nope._

_He's not here. Not only can't he be, why_ would _he be?_ A man of his status didn't have much to do with individual guilds.

_You misheard._

Only…

Her eyes flicked over to the bar without her permission and she saw that she was wrong. Siegrain was in fact standing in the center of Fairy Tail, looking both regal and out of place. Seeing him stole her breath away. She could only think, _Jellal._ It was all she could do to smother the false sense of love-festered-hate and eagerness that bloomed in her heart. _He's not his brother. And he's not here for you._ No matter how much she hoped…

"I'm looking for a mage. Erza Scarlet." Siegrain's voice was like honey over coals, sweet, and hot, and achingly painful. Erza's skin felt like it was peeling back.

_He's looking for you. Say something._ But she was scared, her tongue thick and unresponsive. _If I say nothing at all, I won't have to see him anymore. I won't have to look into_ his _face every time…_

And then she would never see him again.

That made her lungs contract.

_He's not Jellal._

She bit her cheek hard.

"Erza? What has she done now?" Makarov asked warily.

Siegrain didn't reply, because he saw her at that moment. Without further explanation, he left her guild mates behind and crossed the room. Only when he was directly in front of her did he stop. "Miss Scarlet. May I sit?"

Erza looked up at him through thick lashes and, instead of freezing and staring, she tried to think of a polite way to say no. There was none. With some effort, she swallowed her cake and waved him down in front of her.

"What can I do for you, Master—"

"Just Siegrain." He gave her a smile that was just for her. Jellal's smile. _Fucking pretender_ , she thought bitterly, but couldn't make the accusation stick. The man before her seemed as genuine as any. "I found something outside of the magic council office that I _think_ belongs to you," Siegrain explained when she just looked at him. "I recognized it from our meeting and thought perhaps I should return it."

From his pocket he produced a square of tissue paper. When he opened it, her earring presented itself, metal twisted and broken. Reaching out cautiously, Erza took it from his hand. Grampa Rob had given it to her so long ago and now… it was ruined. Unconsciously, she touched the earring still in her earlobe. Sadness washed over her. It was different when she just thought it was lost—lost things could be found, but this...

Gently, Siegrain said, "I see it was important to you. I know an excellent jeweler in town. They're busy, but I'm sure if I ask I can get it repaired, and at a discount price."

Erza blinked unwelcomed tears from her eyes and cleared her throat. "It's fine—"

"It's not," he countered. "Please, Erza. Let me do this."

"That—that would be kind of you," Erza said finally.

"Not at all." Siegrain smiled at her, a gentle thing that tugged at all of the right strings in her heart. He said, "That isn't the only reason I came this afternoon. I was wondering, would you accompany me to the Master's Ball in two days' time."

"A—a ball?" Erza asked numbly.

"It's a pompous and formal occasion, and normally I wouldn't even bother going myself, but I would like to showcase your easy success at returning my pin to the other council members," he said quickly. Awkwardly. Endearingly.

Erza's palms turned sweaty. _Go with Jellal_ —

_Siegrain,_ she corrected _, to a ball_. She lifted her eyes and studied his familiar face. It broke her heart and stitched it back together. Turned her inside out. Yanked at old scabs, made her gasp for breath, made her want to lean in and—

_I don't think I can,_ she thought. _I can't look at him without seeing Jellal._

But...

She wanted to.

_It's just for your job,_ she thought. _It's okay._ Except it wasn't, and she _knew_ that. Every time she looked at him, she saw Jellal. _This is poison. Don't do this to yourself_.

"It would mean a great deal to me if you came," Siegrain said. "The other council members gave me a lot of flak for allowing my pin to be stolen. I told them I'd hire the best mage in Fiore and have it back within the week, and yet you had it back to me the next day. Exceptional." His beaming praise went straight to her heart. "Please, help me brag and save face."

Erza felt her mouth trying to pull into a smile. She quashed it like an annoying bug and loathed herself. _He's not the same. He's not the same—_

"And," Siegrain continued when he saw her hesitance, "It will be good publicity for Fairy Tail as well."

From the bar, Master Makarov made a strangled peep. Erza didn't need to look over to see that he listened eagerly. She felt her cheeks burn and hated him in that moment. Just to end the conversation, she said, "Very well. To promote the guild." _Liar. You want to stare at him some more and pretend._ But he didn't know that.

The smile he gave her was beatific, if not tempered. "Excellent. I'll send a carriage around six in two days' time. To Fairy Hills?"

"Yes," Erza said. "Thank you."

"I look forward to it." He pushed himself up from the bench but didn't leave. He leaned in. Erza froze, wondering what came next. His thumb brushed over her lip. When he pulled away, his skin was stained with blue. "You just had some icing."

Erza felt her face get hot, hot, hot.

Siegrain smiled. "Good bye, Miss Scarlet." And then he was leaving, expensive shoes snapping over the guild's scuffed and beer-soaked floorboards. The door opened and the outside took him away. Even after she'd lost sight of him, Erza stared. Her heart beat too hard. So hard that it hurt. So hard—

A lithe figure filled her line of sight. "Who was that, Erza?" Mirajane's voice was full of curiosity.

Erza had a hard time organizing her thoughts.

"Master Siegrain, of the ten wizard saints." Makarov padded over. "I don't think I have to tell you how important a function like this could be, Erza. I expect you to be your finest self. Make my guild look good." He beamed. Then got serious. "And don't wreck anything."

Just thinking about accompanying Siegrain made her want to shrink back and revoke her earlier agreement. _You can't go with Jellal's twin brother. You can't._

_Why not?_

_It's just... Just bragging, really, it doesn't mean anything. It's fine. Siegrain isn't Jellal._

She wanted to believe it so badly that she did. Erza made herself breathe deeply. "Yes, Master."

He puffed out his cheeks, mustache bristling, and gave her a severe look _. "Can_ you do that?"

His disbelief in her abilities would have rattled her on a different day, but Erza just said, "It's Natsu that wrecks everything."

No one dared to correct her.

* * *

 

Erza's skin was softer than Jellal remembered, her lip like silk. When he'd touched her, he wanted to linger, maybe kiss her, maybe pinch her jaw until she sobbed in pain. Both. He wanted to pull her hair and crush his mouth to hers. He wanted to tear off her armour and get to the soft skin inside. He wanted to bully her against the wall and show her that he could make her absolutely defenseless.

_Not yet._

_She hasn't hurt nearly enough yet_. They were just getting started.

He wanted to keep touching her, but he had realized that not only did he linger, raising her suspicion, but people were staring. He held in his mind the way she shook. _For me. Erza…_ _You're going to be easy to break apart._ That made him sorry—he would have taken pleasure in a greater challenge.

It was hard to turn away from her after that, but he somehow managed.

_Soon I won't turn away._ Soon she'd ask him to stay.

Jellal popped his thumb into his mouth and licked away the icing. It tasted sweet, and just a little like Erza's mouth. He savored every last moment of it and looked forward to the time when he'd taste her lips on his tongue.

_Soon._

In the meantime, he held himself over by recounting the pained look on her face when he presented her with the earring he'd stolen and then broken in a fit of rage. The way he felt about her obvious suffering was unexpectedly complicated. While he'd snapped the metal in half, he thought that Erza _deserved_ it for running away and living her life. She _deserved_ it for leaving him behind in the Tower of Heaven. But when he was sitting across from her and saw the blatant _hurt_ he'd caused… there was a seed of guilt that tried to get some sunlight to grow. He did what he could to keep it in the shade, remembering instead how her voice shook around his false name.

One day, she'd be screaming it.

* * *

 

The whole next day, Erza waffled back and forth. Three times she'd picked up her communication lacrima, intent upon calling Siegrain and canceling. Three times she'd put it down again. She couldn't stop thinking about it. About him. About Jellal.

_This isn't healthy. Just cancel._

That way she wouldn't have to see his brother when she looked at him. That way she could just move on.

_Don't fight. You know you're going to go._ Because she couldn't help it. Looking at Siegrain was painful, like looking into her past and tearing up every single wound she had—even ones she'd forgotten about—but she couldn't seem to stay away.

* * *

 

Later that day, a package came to her room at Fairy Hills. It was in a neat black box, tied with a prim, perfect bow of the deepest crimson.

A note was attached to the top.

_–Wear this,_

_Siegrain._

Erza tugged with clumsy fingers, dreading the moment she revealed what was inside. The bow came loose, falling to the wayside. Gingerly, she lifted the box lid. A bright, scarlet coloured piece of fabric waited inside. Resting on top was a teardrop shaped earring and necklace set made of the darkest onyx she'd ever seen.

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Erza…_

_Erza…_

_When I snapped that earring, I closed my eyes and pretended it was you. Breaking it was easy—the metal was old and rotting anyway, and it felt good, like I was putting right some of the injustice you did to me._

_When you saw it, you almost cried. I wish you had._

_Almost._

_There is a worm of guilt that lingers when I think of how your eyes filled with tears, how your mouth trembled when you saw two halves of what was once whole. I don't think you wanted me to see you like that but I'm glad I did. Now I know the rumors are all a lie. You are not indomitable. You're delicate. Soon, you're going to split like fine lace._

_Erza Scarlet…_

_You haunt me. I can't stop thinking about the way you looked at me when I asked you to come to that stupid ball. Hopeful, wary. Terrified. I thought I was totally see-through and prepared myself for a harder chase. Then you said yes and I realized that I had nothing to fear, because in actuality, it's you that's transparent. Even if you won't admit it, you want to try to take back what was lost. You want to cover your eyes and pretend._

_After that, I had the courage to reach out and touch your lip. You trembled, a delicate girl in hard armour. You weren't thinking about Siegrain Fernandez in that moment._

_Erza Scarlet…_

_Red and ivory._

_I wonder if you'll wear what I sent. I don't imagine; you'll be too shy, too proud, too off-balance. I wasn't going to buy it, but as soon as I saw the colour, all I could think of was ocean sunsets and the colour of your scarlet hair. My red and ivory girl. What I would have given to be there when you opened the box and saw what lay inside. Did your breath shorten? Did your skin heat? Did you smile or frown? Did you wish it was another man sending you gifts? In my mind, I imagine you pacing to outrun your turmoil. I imagine you envisioning what it would be like to let yourself accept that gift. I imagine you reaching up and weaving your fingers through your blood-bright hair and pulling it until it hurt, just to keep yourself rooted in reality._

_It won't be enough. I'll break you down until I'm all you think about. Until you're so infatuated, you'll forget how to be anything else. Until you can't breathe and you can't think and you can't be without me._

_This hurt is going to be with you forever, Erza, but even that won't be enough._

* * *

 

Erza let the box drop from her fingers. It fell to her thin mattress and lay there, almost… mockingly, if a box full of a fine-looking shawl could mock.

Why did he send it? And the jewellery…

Maybe that meant he didn't want her wearing her scratched up rag-tag earrings to such a nice place. She scrubbed her hands through her hair and swallowed a strangled, frustrated cry. What does it mean?

 _Maybe he just wants you to dress nice, so he sent it as a—a standard of comparison_. The thought didn't comfort her the way she thought it would. All she could think was, _if that's the case, then I definitely don't have anything nice enough to wear_. Her finest, best kept garments weren't formal wear. She imagined walking into the ball on Siegrain's arm wearing her purgatory armour _. Master would disown me_. Instead, she tried to put herself into something a little more formal. The only dress she owned was old enough that her breasts didn't quite fit in it anymore and it was a little too tight around her hips.

Her ears burned with a hint of shame. _Nothing? You have nothing else?_

Nope.

She clenched her hand into a tight fist and cursed Siegrain for making her feel like she wasn't good enough. Whether his actions were intentional or not. _What were you going to wear before? The too-tight dress?_

Glowering, she reached down and snatched up the shawl. It was made of chiffon and dyed the deepest of reds. It pooled in her hand like water. The longer she stared at it, the angrier she got. How dare he demand that she wear it, like it was his right? He was the one that begged her to go. If he didn't think she was good enough, then he shouldn't have asked.

Crunching up the fabric, she threw it back into the box and slammed the lid down.

Then, before she could lose her nerve, she pulled on her tall leather boots, grabbed her fur-trimmed coat and stalked out of Fairy Hills.

* * *

 

"Master Siegrain?" Ginny's voice was almost whisper-quiet.

Jellal lifted his head and looked at the girl. The standard white robes she wore clung to her curves and fell off her body in elegant waves. She did her hair today in anemone tipped clips and swiped some eyeliner under her eyes. He knew her appearance was a ruse to get his attention. She was pretty enough, he supposed, but she was no Erza Scarlet.

"What is it?"

Ginny clutched her hands in front of her bellybutton, pushing her breasts together. "Sir, there's a woman here to see you. The one that brandished her sword the other day. Should you like, I'll get security to escort her out—"

Jellal's listless appraisal of Ginny's body fell away, replaced by a sharp intensity at the mention of Erza. "She's here?" She got the box. And she wasn't happy about it. Why else would she be there? _To thank you?_ He hadn't seen her in years and years, but he thought he still knew her well enough to know that was not her intention.

"Yes, sir. I—"

"Send her in." He couldn't wait to see the way her face would pinch with rage. He couldn't wait to see the way she shook. He couldn't wait to hear her clear voice rise with agitation. He especially couldn't wait to see the way her eyes would linger over his face, the way she'd secretly long for him to be someone else.

Ginny bowed quickly, then disappeared. A second later, Erza filled the doorway. She was in a form-fitting black coat today and a short grey skirt. Her long hair fell over her shoulders like red silk, her cheeks were high with colour from the cold, and in her hand was that black box. Its edges were a little crumpled, as if she'd clutched it too hard on the way there, making a fist over and over again, taking out her frustration on the thin cardboard. Her dark eyes were burning with fury—he wondered how long she'd been stewing on what she wanted to say—but as soon as she met his gaze, some of that anger ebbed away and was replaced by a softness she just couldn't hide. He smiled savagely.

"Miss Scarlet, to what do I owe the honour?"

Erza visibly gritted her teeth. "I came to return your items and to tell you that I won't be coming tomorrow evening."

Jellal raised a dark brow. "You didn't like the gifts?"

"I—" She regrouped. "You don't get to choose what I wear."

"Of course, I didn't mean any offence." Sitting back in his chair, he picked up a coin and danced it over his fingers. "I didn't mean for the note to come off quite like that. You don't have to wear it. I just stopped by my jeweller's shop to enquire about fixing your earring and saw it there. It was the colour that caught my eye. Very similar to your hair." He tried to keep it casual, but as he spoke, Erza's face softened, and as it softened, a predatory part of him wanted to stand and go to her. Maybe to brush back her hair and kiss her. Maybe to jam his pen through her pretty fucking throat. He shook the violent thought from his head and said, "I understand it was presumptuous and forward of me. If you don't want to accompany me based on that alone, that's fine." He held out his hand for the box. Erza hesitated, just as he thought.

"I thought—" Her cheeks were two snapdragons.

"Yes?"

"I don't know." She fidgeted. "I have nice things to wear."

A surprised laugh bubbled out of Jellal's chest. "I imagine. That's not why I sent it."

Erza flushed harder. Jellal loved it. He couldn't help it. He listened intently as her lips came open and she said, "Don't—"

"Mmhmm?"

"Don't send me things," she said in a rush. "I'll still go to the ball, but I'm not wearing this stuff." She dropped it to his desk and turned on her heel.

"Erza."

He'd only said her name but she stopped dead in her tracks. Jellal smiled at the tension in her shoulders. She was shaking again; he could hear her armour clinking together so softly. "Maybe you could leave behind that earring so I can get it fixed." She was silent for such a long time he wondered if he'd pushed her too far.

When she turned back around, her cheeks were still so, so red, the colour leaching into her neck, too. Reaching her hand into her pocket, she pulled out the metal and dropped it to his desk. "I'll give you the money once he's finished."

Jellal didn't reply, just reached out and flicked it across the desk with two fingers.

"Be careful with that," Erza said. "It's important to me."

Jellal bit back the urge to pick it up and throw it into the garbage just to hurt her. The thought was chased by shame. How could he love someone so much and want to hurt them so badly? _Because she hurt me_. The day she walked out of the Tower of Heaven and turned her back on him and everyone they cared about. Didn't she want to be free? Didn't she want to be with him? Didn't she want to give everything she had—

"I'll take better care of it," he heard himself say. "Apologies."

Erza nodded and turned on her heel. Jellal watched her sway all the way out of his office and down the stairs. Her scent lingered in the room. He breathed it in, wondering if it would be sweeter if the scent of iron was mixed with it.

Ultear entered, interrupting his musings. "You were right, that girl is tripping over herself. She doesn't know what to do with you."

Jellal dropped his coin to his desk and grabbed up the box Erza left behind. "I suppose not."

"It seems you don't much know what to do either. This game you're playing—be careful."

Jellal sucked on his teeth. "I'm fine."

"No," she said with false patience. "You're in love with her and I think it's going to cloud your judgement. Don't lose sight of our goal."

Jellal sat forward in his chair, any blithesomeness falling off of his face. "My judgement is fine. I won't forget what needs to be done."

"Really?" She sashayed forward and grabbed up the scarf from the desk. "Because I see gifts. That's not like you."

Jellal ground his teeth together, suddenly furious. That scarf was for Erza, even if she didn't want it. "Drop it."

"Here I thought maybe I could wear it and you could pretend I'm her," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jellal considered her, then said in a carefully deadpan voice, "You know, you're so completely unremarkable, that might just work." He said it to wound and was dissatisfied when she was steadfast under the abuse. They just didn't really have the wounding type of relationship.

"You're cranky."

Only where Erza was concerned. "Get out, Ultear." His lips curled up into a snarl as he said it. His words were like sand paper dragging over her skin, rough, but the sting they left behind was kind of pleasant.

She didn't leave, only came closer. "You know, if he hadn't chosen you as a vessel, you'd be just as unremarkable."

He knew she meant it. The attraction went skin-deep, something to do, not something to love. Still, when she moved in to kiss him, he grabbed her by the arm and pushed her back on principle alone.

Ultear wasn't fazed, she just flashed her teeth in a wide grin and pulled away, knowing that in a few hours he'd forget his sudden rage and he'd be a puppet once more.

* * *

 

Erza requipped into civilian clothes and pulled her furred hood over her head. The wind blew so hard that it nearly knocked her over. Snow kicked up from the side of the road and left shallow drifts over the sidewalk. She stepped easily over those, making her way towards a place called Lily Grain. It was a dress shop, one of two located in Magnolia. The place was expensive; she'd been in once with Cana and Mirajane. After looking at the cacophony of finely made clothes and assessing her wallet, she'd decided that it wasn't worth it. She wished she could turn back time now; that way she wouldn't have to waste the rest of her day shopping.

 _You can still cancel_. Never before did she think she was a fickle girl, but suddenly she felt uncertain and shy and maddeningly confused. There was a drumming in her head, a myriad of vicious voices all fighting to be heard. Some said she just wanted to go because he was a connection to Jellal. Some said it was a matter of pride. Some, the most vicious and perhaps the most truthful, peeled back the layers of denial and told her exactly what she didn't want to hear: she wanted to pretend that this man were another, if only absolutely everything in her life had been different.

With a great, frustrated puff of air, she turned sharply into Lily Grain's.

Every wall was lined with clothes. A part of her was excited. She relished the idea of being able to prove that she wasn't a one-trick pony. She could be a warrior and a girl, right? Sure. The only thing was, the rows upon rows of clothes were overwhelming—she didn't even know where to start.

"Can I help you, miss?" A tall, willowy woman with fine silver hair and crow's feet popped out from behind a tall rack.

Erza wrung her hands together and almost left, practically convinced that she didn't actually want to do this, but then she hardened her resolve. "I'm looking for a dress to wear to the Master's Ball tomorrow evening."

"Tomorrow?" the woman squawked. "You've left it to the last minute."

Erza latched on to that. If she didn't have a dress, she didn't have to go, right? And if she didn't have to go, she'd save herself some turmoil and heart ache and hope and poison—because that was what waited at the end of this line, right? Nothing but hurt, she was sure of it. "If—if you can't do anything—"

"I never said that," the woman snapped, suddenly sharp. "I have something for everyone here. Come." Then, armed with a measuring tape, she ushered Erza into a wide open room in the back. It was separated from the rest of the shop by a large, black curtain. "Take off your clothes."

"My clothes?" Erza repeated.

The lady looked at her, an exasperated expression on her face. "How am I supposed to measure you and find something that fits? Into your skivvies, come on."

Erza didn't want to be so exposed in front of a stranger, but the woman really couldn't take a measure through her clothes, right? With a sigh, she closed her eyes and magicked away everything except her under things. When the light cleared and she opened her eyes again, the shop keeper was giving her the most peculiar look.

Erza thought she'd say something about the magic, so she was unprepared when the woman opened her mouth and said, "You're all scarred."

She didn't need to look down to know what she spoke of. Her arms and her legs, her stomach, all riddled with small white scars. They'd mostly disappeared over the years, but some particularly deep ones from whip lashes remained.

"I have ointment to cover that up," the woman determined after a silent moment. "That way, you'll be able to wear your dress without calling attention to those nasty marks."

Erza didn't reply. Her visible scars weren't really an issue, it was the invisible ones, the ones she seemed determined to tear open, that were the real problem. Siegrain filled her mind, temptingly toxic. "Make sure the dress is your finest." If she was going to sabotage herself, she figured she may as well look good doing it.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sometimes, my head is foggy. I stare at the wall for hours and hours when I'm supposed to be looking at budgets and signing documents. Sometimes, I dream of Zeref and black and everything I want but can't have yet._

_Most of the time, I dream of Erza and red and everything I want and could have had, but lost when she walked away._

_Sometimes, I wake and my eyes are dry._

_That's not as bad as the days when I wake and they're wet._

_Sometimes, my lungs ache and I'm lightheaded because I've forgotten to breathe. Sometimes, I feel so perfectly insane. Broken pieces. A shattered mirror. I don't know the man staring back a hundred times at me._

_I thought once I saw her again the fits would get better. They've only gotten worse. Obsession is the thing I live and breathe._

_There is something about her that feeds the addict in me. I want my skin under her nails. I want to fist my hands in her hair._

_I want her lipstick smeared across her face and my lips._

_I want her sick and bleeding and keening._

_I want to lie with her bones forever._

_I can't stop._

_I can't_

_I can't stop. Erza..._

_Erza, please. I can't._

* * *

 

Erza sat in front of her tall, silver mirror and watched Mirajane work. She kept waiting for the takeover mage to grill her—she was being unusually quiet, given the circumstances—but Mira just hummed out a gentle tune and threaded her hair into elaborate plaits. Erza wrung her hands and dug her nails into her nailbeds to keep herself centered.

Mira noticed and asked, "Are you nervous?"

Erza lifted her gaze. "Nervous?"

"I'm sure Master didn't actually mean to put so much pressure on you. He just knows what a wonderful mage you are and he knows you can make the guild look good."

Erza stared at her childhood rival. Mira had changed so much since Lisanna died. Instead of pointing out her phony personality and earning herself a one-way ticket to regret, she went with Mira's supposition and said, "I suppose. It's only natural that he'd be excited to showcase Fairy Tail." Some days, it really felt like they could use the positive publicity, what with Natsu and Gray always wrecking stuff, and then that fiasco with the Strauss's. She didn't say any of that stuff. The wound was still so fresh, even after years.

Mira put the finishing touches on her hair. Erza looked at the girl in the mirror. She hardly recognized herself. Her hair was elaborately braided, her bangs still loose, and her lashes were dark with mascara. She didn't want any of it, not really, but Mira came by her apartment around four and hadn't left until Erza agreed to let her help.

And then… this concoction happened.

She supposed she looked beautiful. It was just strange to think of herself like that. She wished she had her armour; it was more comfortable. She'd been wearing it until thirty minutes ago when Mira insisted that she remove it. The woman had lost her power, but she was still a force to be reckoned with when she wanted something done a certain way.

"It's five thirty," Mira said. "Siegrain said he'd be by around six, right?"

"He said he'd send a carriage, yes," Erza agreed. It was regret as soon as the words came out; Mira's eyes lit up and Erza knew she saw her opportunity to gossip and speculate. Another annoying trait that'd developed since Lisanna's death.

Mira caught up a lock of silver hair and said dreamily, "That's glamorous, isn't it?"

 _Glamorous?_ The want to pull her insides out just to make her stomach stop churning? The urge to hyperventilate whenever she thought about what she was doing? _What the fuck happened to you?_ It felt like as soon as she saw Siegrain Fernandez, all of her rationality dried up and died. She wanted to scratch her arms until they bled just to know what was real, because when she looked at that man, everything dissolved. _Remember. He's not Jellal._ And after tonight, she'd never, ever have to see him again.

Just knowing he existed was like a stab to the chest.

In the silence, Mira pouted out her lip. "Well… maybe you should get dressed."

Erza jolted; she'd forgotten Mira was there at all. _Dressed. Right._ The carriage would be there soon. Standing, she magicked away all of her clothes save for her underthings and went to her closet and the bag housing her elaborate—and elaborately expensive—dress.

Mira watched her shamelessly while she pulled out the black fabric and studied it. She only spoke when Erza made to pull it over her head.

"Aren't you going to match?"

"Match?" Erza repeated.

Mira raised a snowy brow. "Your bra, Erza."

Erza looked down at the article in question. It was strapless and dark blue with tiny white roses on it. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, really, the bra's fine. It's the panties." Mira smirked, a hint of her old, malicious self leaking through.

Erza fought the urge to cover up the red boxer-style briefs. "There's nothing wrong with them."

Mira snorted. "Do you have a matching set, or what?"

"They're _fine,"_ Erza insisted.

Mira shook her head. "What if things get steamy and you end up at his place? He'll take off your dress, see that and—"

Erza's ears burned. "That's _not_ happening." Not with Siegrain. Nope.

Mira crossed her arms. "I saw the way he was looking at you, Erza. That man wants to see if you match."

Erza's ears burned even more. "Get out, Mira."

"Hey, I'm just trying to be helpful."

"You've done more than enough." She wanted to summon a sword and push the paltry demon-in-hiding out of her room. She did not.

Mira turned her mouth down to the side. "Fine. Whatever, suit yourself. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"And I'm warning _you,"_ Erza growled. "Get out."

This time, Mira obeyed.

After the door slammed closed, Erza just stood there and considered hunting her down again and yelling some more. _Screaming at Mira isn't going to make you less frustrated with yourself, or your situation_. But it would sure make her feel better. Turning, she looked into the mirror once more. She didn't think the underwear looked stupid before, but now with Mira's input, she felt uncoordinated and disorganized. _It doesn't matter. No one's going to see it._ But she would know that it was there. With a frustrated grunt, she went back to her underwear drawer and rooted through hopelessly. There was nothing. No matching anything. _It doesn't matter._ It didn't. No one was going to know but her. But that wasn't enough. Heaving a great sigh, she pulled her panties off and told herself that the dress would look better without a panty line anyway.

_Maybe I'll get a matching pair tomorrow._

Nice ones. Just in case the situation ever came up.

Her cheeks burned hot. She pushed the thought from her head and turned back to her dress. When it hung on the closet door, it dropped almost all the way down to the floor. The material was lightweight and soft. Paper thin, and blacker than a midnight sky. Gently, she took it off its hook, undid the buttons on the back, then stepped into it. It felt like cool water sliding up her skin. With careful fingers, she looped the halter around her neck, then struggled with the buttons on the back. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't kicked Mira out, but the hell if she was calling her back for help. Working blindly, she fastened up the four large buttons, then looked at herself in the mirror.

This Erza was even stranger to see. Large, dark eyes, pale skin, long, thin neck exposed, delicate shoulders and spilling breasts.

 _You look like you could be a happy girl._ A girl without scars. A girl that lived going forward, not a girl that wandered around with the twin of the man from her past. She almost tore out her braids and ripped off her dress, frustrated with the ruse and herself, but instead, she reached into her thin makeup case and pulled out a tube of scarlet red lipstick. It was almost unused. It tasted chalky and immediately made her lips dry. To counteract the effect, she picked up a tube of lip gloss Cana gave to her one birthday. This one definitely never had the seal broken. Snapping the plastic, she opened the cherry-smelling vial, then smeared some over her lips. Instantaneously, they looked plump and as bright as apples.

The final piece of the puzzle lay in her thread-bare jewelry box.

Gingerly, she extracted her most expensive pieces of jewelry—red garnet earrings and a matching necklace, and adorned them. The gemstones were bright against her pale skin, and beside the dress, they were almost blinding, three suns gleaming from her skin. She tried to suck on her lip before she remembered the lipstick and stopped.

Checking the clock, she saw it was ten to six. Swallowing a nervous squeak, she went to her closet, grabbed out a pair of black, strappy heels, and slipped them on. They were obnoxious to walk in. Already her feet hurt and she'd barely started her evening. Grumbling, she went for her coat next and shrugged into it, then braved Fairy Hill's hallways. Thankfully, none of the girls were lingering to ask her awkward questions.

No. That wasn't until she stepped out and saw Loke loitering outside the building. He glanced over her, then did a double-take. "Erza? I hardly recognized you without your armour."

She clutched her long coat tighter around her body and wished that it hid more. "What are you doing here, Loke?" He looked pale as usual, skin shining in the late day light.

"Mira said you had a big date, thought I'd stop by and check for myself."

"Really?" She didn't believe him.

Loke smiled savagely. "Maybe. I'm hurt. Last time I asked you out, you said you weren't in the dating game."

"I'm _still_ not," Erza said shortly. Over the hill, she could see a carriage approaching. It was silver and gold, pulled by two giant Clydesdales blacker than night.

"Sure." Loke followed her gaze. "Is that for you?"

Erza rubbed suddenly sweaty palms on her coat. "Maybe."

He whistled. "Swanky. Who is it?"

"Siegrain Fernandez." Saying his name was like tearing off a strip of her skin. Especially when in her minds eye, she only saw Jellal's face. The horses were close enough now that she could hear the clip-clop of their hooves over the bare cobblestone.

"The wizard saint?" Loke asked. "Man." He scrubbed his hand through his hair. "How do you expect a guy to compete with that?"

Erza turned and skewered him with a dark look, agitated with herself, Mira, and now Loke. "Even if that were the kind of evening I was having—which it's _not—_ you're a man whore, Loke, looking for a girl to spend the night with and that's all. I wouldn't lower myself." _Not for you._ She shook the thought from her head. Not for anyone.

Loke looked like she'd slapped him. "Hey—"

But he didn't get to finish because the carriage was there, grinding to a halt. The driver was an old, thin man with an off-white beard and crow's feet around his blue eyes. On his head was a tall, black hat and around his shoulders was a warm looking driving coat. He got down and revealed himself to be short, just a little taller than Master.

"Miss Scarlet." He bowed shallowly, then went to the silver door and worked it open. "After you."

Erza shot one more nervous look to Loke and ludicrously considered his offer, only because going out on a date with him would be much less harrowing. _It's not a date,_ she reminded herself. "Goodbye, Loke."

He nodded his head and watched her get into the carriage.

Inside, the place smelled like fabric stiffener and faintly of cigarette smoke. The seats were red velvet, and empty. With some effort, she ignored the pang of disappointment. _He said he'd send a carriage, not that he'd pick you up. What do you expect? He's busy. Besides, it's_ not _a date._

Right.

The door closed, then, a second later, the carriage was moving again.

* * *

 

Jellal waited impatiently outside of the Fiore council building for the carriage to arrive. He'd thought about going with the driver, but after the shawl fiasco, he didn't want to seem too eager. There wasn't any need to scare her off.

The cold winter wind bit into his suit jacket. He didn't care. He crossed his arms and ignored Ultear lurking in the shadows at his back. She'd been testy for the last two days, annoyed with him, perhaps for pushing her back. He didn't care about that either; Erza was in his head and she wouldn't get out.

 _You could carve her out_.

There was a little place just for her. He'd start by spilling her blood, then—

The air filled with the clatter of hooves over dry cobblestones. His tongue suddenly felt swollen. _That's her._ He knew with certainty. Absentmindedly, he smoothed his hand through his slicked back hair and fixed his suit jacket. He still felt unkempt.

There was no time to worry about that stuff though, because the carriage was pulling up in front of him. Their smell of horses hit him, musky and sweaty. The driver scurried out of the seat and hurried to grab the door's gilded handle. When he pulled the barrier aside, Jellal felt like he was tugging back the edges of a particularly exciting present. He couldn't wait for the moment he saw her. It was going to be like taking a lighter to his skin. It was going to be like breathing fresh air after near-suffocation. It was going to be like—

Sunrise after the darkest night.

He saw her hair first, as always, vibrant and fetching. Spider silk, fine and gleaming. Then her pale skin and her dark eyes. She stood and crouched to climb from the carriage. At the last moment, Jellal remembered what he was supposed to do and stepped forward so he could take her hand. Erza hesitated. _She doesn't want to touch you._ Yet she did, and when her fingers closed around his, her grip was a little too tight to mask the way her hand shook. He couldn't see her dress, it was covered by her coat, but her feet peeped out of strappy high heels. Her toes were painted black. He looked up and saw her fingernails were the same. And higher. Her lips were the darkest red he'd ever seen. Forget red and ivory. She was a blood and midnight girl. Black and red. Black and red.

Black

And

Red.

He squeezed her fingers and almost tugged her in close so he could see what ruby tasted like.

_Temptation._

_Sin._

_Redemption._

"Erza." Just saying her name was a kind of sweet torture. He wanted to take a knife and carve out his heart so he could give it to her. He wanted to use his own hands to harvest hers.

Erza shivered. "Siegrain."

He almost told her Jellal—he thought he'd give anything to hear her use his real name, but he refrained. But… There had to be some satisfaction. "You're beautiful."

Her skin flushed. She dropped his gaze and pulled her hand away.

When she didn't reply, Jellal smiled and touched a hand to her warm back. "Shall we?" He so badly wanted to see her in her dress.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm drowning in a sea of black and red. She is the midnight sky kissed by fire. She speaks and its ember and smoke. My head is dead._

_Her perfume is honeysuckle, sweet and dizzying. Her skin is alabaster, bright and clear and distracting. For a moment, I look at her and see that her eyes are the deepest, blackest things I've ever known. Abyss holes. Voids. Beautiful in their own right, and terrifying in their ability to swallow me whole. They could make me forget._

_Forget..._

_Everything._

_But then I blink and realize that her orbs are brown. And warm. Not black and hollow and cold at all. I've been slipping again. She speaks and her cherry-red lips move; it's hard to focus on what she's saying; too distracted. A false smile and some cliché words take the place of everything I want to say but can't. Not yet._

_Her throat bobs. I want to wrap my hands around it and kiss it. Though, if I started, I would never stop there. With certainty, I would push her against the wall; I don't even care that the room is full; I imagine fucking her there; I imagine making love to her there. Lifting her up and wrapping her legs around my waist, then moving the skirt of her dress aside and plunging into her. I imagine a world where she'd let me. I imagine her opening her mouth and sobbing. Is she crying, or moaning? First one and then the other. First the other than one. Maybe while she shivered and came I'd ask why she left me at the Tower of Heaven. Abandoned me when I needed her most. Maybe I'd get hasty and_

_Cut_

_Her open before we get back. Maybe… maybe she'd understand. Fuck. I hate her so much. So much that I love her. Or maybe I love her so much that I hate her._

_It seems that as I loathe, then so I love._

_I can't breathe with or without her._

* * *

 

With his hand pressing into the small of her back, Jellal guided Erza up the path to the council building. He kept expecting her to pull away, and indeed, her spine was as stiff as a stick, but it seemed she couldn't quite make herself do it. _She likes the way it feels_. A smile crept onto his face. It faded away just as quickly, swallowed in a bitter wave. Back and forth he was dragged, torn between wanting to fawn over her and scream until he felt as mad as a hatter. His eyes slid over to her and got stuck that way, snagging on the plump curve of her lip and the dusting of freckles over her delicate nose. How could she be the fierce Erza Scarlet? She looked as fragile as a too-ripe peach, soft and giving and on the verge of collapse if he squeezed too hard. Without his permission, his fingers tightened in the fabric of her coat.

She gave him a startled look as soon as she felt that. Jellal made himself loosen his hold and turned his eyes back to the path.

They just kept drifting back; she was a sun he couldn't help but bask under until the soil parched and he died.

Erza caught him staring. Jellal expected a question. She turned her eyes away and studied her surroundings. Jellal followed her gaze. Partygoers lined the front of the building. Some had cigars and cigarettes in their mouths and drinks in their hands, others just stood there, only interested in socializing. His lungs burned walking through a cloud of grey smoke. It smelled awful. He wanted a cigarette himself. It wasn't likely to take the edge away but it would give his fingers something to do when they wanted to tangle in Erza's hair, when they wanted to pull at her dress and see what was beneath. When they wanted to dole out the same pain she'd caused him.

Jellal nodded to a few council members, and then some governmental officials, men and women in fine dresses, with elaborate weaves and bright mouths when their lips curled up in hello.

Beside him, Erza looked uncomfortable. "What is it?"

"I don't belong here," she said truthfully.

She was right. None of these people were _her_ people; they'd spent their lives gripping pens and floating off family money—what did they know of calluses and scars and sweat and hard, honest work? Nothing. Jellal didn't let himself sympathize too much, though. Erza left the Tower of Heaven. She didn't know much, either. He smiled and said, "You're fine." And Erza smiled back. He loved that smile. He loved to hate it.

At the entrance, a concierge in a tuxedo grabbed open the door and held it for them. Jellal urged Erza in first, just to watch her discomfort grow. He wasn't disappointed. Her shoulders stiffened and her steps got wooden. He wanted to say something to comfort her and he wanted her to suffer. How could it be both?

It was with great effort that he looked away from her to study the room. It was wide and filled to the brim with noisy people. Along the far wall was a bar, though the counter was so full, Jellal couldn't see it. Men and women in tuxedos cruised the room, ducking in and out of people, holding aloft trays stuffed with food and drinks. At the front of the room was a tall stage.

Currently, an empty podium took up its center. Soon, the chairman would go up, say a few words, then an orchestra would take his place and the evening would really begin. The floor underfoot was gleaming marble. As soon as Erza's flimsy heel touched on it, she wobbled. Jellal was glad for the opportunity to stabilize her with a hand on her elbow. He kept it there even after she'd found her footing and Erza let him.

A woman waited at the coat check and smiled prettily. In her hand was a clipboard. "Master Siegrain."

"And my date, Erza Scarlet," Jellal said and felt Erza tense.

"Well—" Erza started.

The woman spoke over her. "Will you be signing our guest book?"

Erza let it go, smiling fleetingly and toeing her way over to where the book rested on a tall stand. Jellal waited for her to finish up and step aside, then took her place. His eyes were drawn to her name. _Erza Scarlet_. It pleased him that she still used the name he gave her all those years ago. _She must think of me every time she says it; every single time she writes it._

 _Erza Scarlet_. It was printed in the reddest ink, the lines used to form it thin and scratchy. Unthinkingly, he ran his finger over _Scarlet_ and smeared the T.

"Can I take your coat?"

"Yes, that would be kind of you."

The sound of Erza's voice brought him back to himself. Hastily, Jellal wrote out _Siegrain Fernandez_ under Erza and turned. Erza was just unbuttoning her long, black coat. The baggy material fell away like shadows in the coming light and exposed the clingy black cloth beneath. The dress was halter-style, dipping low enough in the front that the tops of her breasts were exposed. Just below the hollow of her throat lay red garnet, ember-bright. The jewel glittered in the false overhead light, drawing his eyes in and keeping them there. It was nearly the colour of blood against her skin. It looked intoxicating on her. He thought he'd stare at it forever, trapped, then she turned, and a long slice of leg caught his eye and pulled him in while it peeped out through a slit in the skirt of her dress. The skin there looked smooth. So badly he wanted to touch it. Badly enough, he almost did right there.

_Not yet. Soon._

Erza caught him looking. Jellal met her eyes and smiled. Despite that, he thought she saw the real him in that moment, not Siegrain the pretender. Jellal didn't have too much time to relish that as a short, round man approached.

"Siegrain, so glad you could make it. There was a lot of speculation surrounding your attendance—and indeed, I see you haven't made it past the door. Not planning on escaping, are you?" His eyes were jovial and kind.

Jellal clapped him on the back companionably. "Not tonight, Crawford."

Crawford nodded and focused on Erza. "And this must be the famous Erza Scarlet of Fairy Tail. Siegrain told us all you'd be joining him. To salvage his honour, he said. I fear the other council members gave him quite the hard time."

Jellal knew his smile was paper-thin but couldn't fix it. He saved all of his best ploys for Erza. "Yes. Well, I suppose the other members of the council don't know what it's like to be robbed. It's not something I've come to expect. I don't know when treasure hunters got so bold."

"Strange times."

Jellal turned to Erza and played the role of her date. "Sorry, Erza, this is Chairman Crawford Seam."

"Oh—" Erza fumbled and stuck out her hand. "Chairman—nice to meet you—" Erza's smile belied her disdain. Jellal saw through her and even thought he knew why. Crawford's hands were soft and round and always clammy. He was another pencil holder.

"Likewise." Crawford released her hand. Jellal wanted to pick it up and give her another touch to think about. He resisted. Crawford said, "Well, I must continue greeting guests, but don't be shy, Erza. I should like to hear of the guild life—it's not something I get to entertain often." He nodded his head and waved absently, then he was gone.

Erza breathed out. "I didn't expect to meet the chairman face-to-face."

"You did wonderful," Jellal said automatically.

When she blushed with his compliment, he felt confident enough to touch her back again and corralled her deeper into the council building. It looked like she wanted to duck out of his hold. She never did, though. He wondered if it was because she was trying to be polite. He wondered if he cared.

Not, because her eyes were on him, taking in his clothes, his hair, his smile in a way she had yet to do. Somehow, her expression was both strained and wistful. He couldn't stop his ear-to-ear grin. Then chastised himself for the pleasure he felt. Her torment was his goal, not his own ego-stroking. He decided he needed some space to keep his head clear. "Would you like some champagne?"

Erza latched onto his offer. "Yes."

Jellal tugged her toward one of the empty tables filling the center of the room and pulled out a high-backed chair for her. "Stay here, and I'll just be a minute." Before she could say a word, he left her there.

* * *

 

Erza sat down, adjusted her dress, and crossed her legs. Then she just stared after Siegrain shamelessly, enjoying the way his shoulders filled out his suit and the way he walked with such confidence until her line of sight was filled with a tall, sour looking man with long, grey hair.

"Miss Scarlet."

She scoured her mind for his name. He was definitely familiar. It was someone she should know.

"Gran Doma," he offered with annoyance when he noticed her struggle. "Though, I thought given the amount of apology letters Fairy Tail has submitted, you would have remembered by now."

Erza felt her cheeks heat. "Yes, sir, my apologies." It wasn't what she wanted to say, but Master was in her head, chirping away. "Sometimes, our members can be… overzealous."

"If I recall correctly, your name is often on the top of those letters. It is unwise to shirk the blame." His words were cutting, his eyes judgmental. "I saw the report that came out of Clover just last month."

Erza wrung her hands together. Clover… Clover was an accident—a miscalculation of magical power needed… She couldn't deny that the town was nearly destroyed because of it. "I accept responsibility for my actions," she said in a strained voice. "Though, I can assure you, situations like what happened in Clover aren't very common."

He snorted in disbelief. "You're delusional—the same thing will be across my desk next month. Not that it matters. I can assure you that soon, problem guilds like Fairy Tail will find it difficult moving into the future."

Erza felt her mouth go dry. "Fairy Tail is not a problem-"

"Fairy Tail is the very definition—"

Siegrain reappeared at that moment, brandishing two fluted glasses. "Gran. Are you harassing my guest?"

"Educating," the man said coolly. "Wizards like her—"

"Are a large reason why Fiore isn't overrun by dark guilds," he interjected smoothly before Erza could say anything. "Here, Erza." He handed over her drink. She almost didn't catch the glass, but then remembered what her fingers were supposed to do and clutched the thin stem. Siegrain held her eyes and clinked their glasses together. "To your fine work."

She wasn't satisfied, but the look Siegrain gave her was full of warning. "Thank you." She took a sip of the dry alcohol.

Gran Doma let out a huffy breath then turned on his heel and shuffled away in silence and a swirl of robes.

"Don't mind stuffy old fools like him, you're an amazing woman and mage, even if you cause ripples in the council." Siegrain said the last effortlessly and finished with a smile.

Erza was caught between puffing up with pride, unfurling with his compliment, and blushing with embarrassment. She bounced right over his praises, unsure of how to take them, and focused on something larger than herself. "It was never Fairy Tail's intention to cause ripples."

"Nonsense." He pulled out a tall backed chair and dropped himself into it, then leaned in so they were almost nose-to-nose and eye-to-eye.

Too close. Erza felt paralyzed.

"No one wants to slide under the bar unnoticed," Siegrain continued, apparently oblivious to their nearness. "Besides, I think this place needs some excitement. And, if it means you have to make more written apologies, you can just submit them to me and I will deal with them directly. I won't complain," he added, "So far, I've found your company quite enjoyable."

Erza knew she turned as red as her hair. There wasn't anything she could do about it. Except lean away some. It took her some time to recover, but when she did, she opened her mouth to tell him to back off. Movement up on the stage made her clam up.

Chairman Crawford waddled up to the podium, looking sweaty and sallow under the glowing overhead light. "Good evening, esteemed ladies and gentleman, welcome to the twenty-fifth Council Ball. As you know, a silent auction will be held to raise money to help support our efforts in eradicating dark guilds. You'll find art and products donated by local artisans and—"

Erza tuned out and sipped her drink until it was done. Siegrain noticed and immediately flagged down another server brandishing champagne. Erza was going to refuse but then thought better of it. It wasn't every night she got to dress up and go out. It wasn't every night she spent with his double.

To outrun her guilty conscience, she tossed back the alcohol almost in one go. Siegrain raised a brow but didn't say anything. In fact, he seemed to smile, almost pleased.

Eventually, the chairman exited the stage and an orchestra took his place. They started up, flutes and violins leaking out a thready, mulling tune. Erza looked at Siegrain from the corner of her eye. His gaze was glued to her skin, a vague smile on his face.

"So, I have to assume being a ten wizard saint, you could have retrieved your pin on your own," Erza filled the silence. "Those treasure hunters weren't very powerful. Why did you hire me?" She couldn't tell if she was waiting for his praise or if she was actually curious.

Siegrain's vague smile dropped away. "Politics. I'm not allowed to do a job like that on my own. Just in case it goes south, then the council looks bad. You know."

Erza stuck out her lip. "Seems restraining, being in your position."

He shrugged. "It has its benefits. Status, influence. By the same token, it seems restraining, working for a guild. Rules, regulations, fees."

"Fairy Tail has been my family for as long as I can remember," Erza said automatically. "They took me in when I had nowhere else to turn."

Siegrain's expression turned sour for only a second and then it was gone. Abruptly, he changed the subject. "Would you like to dance?"

Erza bit her cheek hard. "Dance?" _No, no, no. Say no. You have to draw the line_ somewhere.

He stood and held out his hand.

Erza looked up into his familiar face. His dark eyes stripped her bare, made her want to say and do stupid things. Even this. _It doesn't mean anything_. She downed the very last drop of her champagne for good measure, then, ignoring his hand as if that would make it any better, stood and walked to the center of the room where, already, men and women were twirling together. As she moved, she wondered if she'd insulted him. A quick look over her shoulder told her that not only did Siegrain follow, he had that admiring look in his eye again, as if fascinated by everything she did. Seeing that made her want to clutch her elbows and run for the door. There was a time where she was foolish enough to think all the skeletons in her closet couldn't linger, but now, looking at Siegrain, she knew all the bones were coming out to dance, and she felt hopeless but to watch.

Erza didn't stop until she was at the center of the dance floor, then, on shaking legs, turned and faced Siegrain. He wasn't shy when he stepped into her and grabbed her around the waist. It couldn't be helped, she trembled like a leaf as soon as he made contact with her body and pulled her in close. His scent was in her nose and his _hands_. They were all she could feel. For a heartbeat, they squeezed too hard, pushing her almost to the point of pain. Then he eased up. And horrifically, tickled over the place where her underwear should be. She knew _he_ knew that she wore nothing beneath her dress. Even more horrifically? She wasn't as embarrassed as she thought she'd be. How _could_ she be when he looked at her like _that?_

"Erza…"

When he said her name like _that?_

Erza had to look away from him and she couldn't respond. She made herself lift her hands up so they cupped his shoulder, then waited. They stood together, unmoving for a beat too long, then Siegrain seemed to remember that they were supposed to dance. Taking in a ragged breath, he moved his feet as he was supposed to.

His voice rasped in Erza's ear. "Have you ever been to a ball like this before?"

It was so easy for Erza to close her eyes and pretend that it was Jellal pressing against her, asking her questions. She kept them open and tried to focus on the facts. "Mmm… Not really like this. Sometimes, clients will invite us to parties, but…" Siegrain leaned back and watched her greedily as she spoke. It was like he couldn't look away. Behind her back, he experimentally swirled his fingers over where her panty line should have been. "Nothing quite like this," Erza finished hastily, then, squashing her reserve and shyness, grabbed his hand and moved it up to a more appropriate region. That helped mitigate some of her anxiety. Not all, but she'd take anything by this point.

Siegrain wasn't abashed as she hoped. He only smiled his familiar smile and looked down at her with knowing eyes.

They drifted in a small circle; Erza couldn't tell if it was in time with the music or not. On one of their rotations, she misplaced her foot and stepped hard on his shiny black shoe. He winced, but recovered quickly.

"Sorry." Erza's neck burned.

He didn't accept her apology. "You're tense."

 _Am I so transparent_? Yes. Though she wished that weren't the case. "I don't think I really belong in a place like this." It was half true, anyway.

His responding grin was cutting and eager. "Are you sure it's not me that's bothering you?"

Her stomach twisted with nerves. "You're direct, aren't you?"

"I never had much use for trivial niceties. The world would be a better place if people said what they were thinking and meant what they said."

It was a sentiment she shared.

"Is it because I look like him?"

Erza felt like she'd been kicked hard in the ribs. Her feet stopped moving and her hands slackened around his shoulders. "I—"

"I'm not my brother."

Erza snagged her lipsticked lip between her teeth and bit it until it hurt. _I know that._ Right? Definitely, but that didn't stop her from _wanting_ him to be.

_That's not true._

She wasn't that good of a liar.

"Excuse me." Abruptly, she pulled out of his grasp. Where his hand sat on her hip was suddenly cold.

"Erza—I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

It was too late, she was already walking away, sunset-red hair gleaming, black dress swirling. Fire and shadow. Blood and midnight. And snow. Her skin was so pale.

Ultear filled the place Erza had been. Jellal looked over the woman's head and watched his date slip out onto the balcony.

"Are you trying to make her miserable or are you trying to make her love you?"

Jellal let his facade drop away for only a breath and smiled savagely. "Both." Without another word, he pushed past her and followed his scarlet flame.

 


	6. Chapter 6

_In the end, I'm going to take everything good about Erza Scarlet and I'm going to tarnish it. No—better than that—I'm going to make it so she begs me to ruin her. I'm going to be the air in her lungs. I'm going to be the soil under her feet. I'm going to be the knife in her heart. I'm going to be the drugs in her veins. I will be the thorny vine that wraps around her throat and pulls tight. It will hurt us both, but the pain will be bittersweet, a soft and lilting pressure that slowly builds until the thorn breaks the skin and the blood wells and spills over._

_It's hard to remember to go slow. She's shy and untrusting, a deer wary of the spear aimed at her heart. But I would never let it find home. That would be quick and easy. I want her to know pain, I want..._

_I want..._

_I want to love her until she loves me. I want to love her until I can't think. I want her to love me until she can't stand herself, I want her to love me until she doesn't trust herself; but that won't make her stop. No. That will be the force to drive her onwards. She's going to kiss me and it's going to break her apart. She's going to kiss me and it'll sew us together._

* * *

 

On his way out, Jellal snagged two champagne glasses from a waitress hanging around the balcony doors. He tipped one into his mouth and drank almost half, then pushed open the door with his hip and came out into the cold air.

Finding Erza was easy. Even in a crowd of beautiful women poured into flattering dresses, she stood a grade above the rest. It was her curving waist, it was her violently red hair, it was her smooth skin kissed by goose bumps. It was the way she leaned against the balustrade, her hip propped out, her forearms resting on the snow-encrusted railing. It was just… her. Her breath puffed out of her lips in bloated clouds that were quickly grabbed up and ripped away by the wind. A few strands of spider-silk hair tickled her chin, caressing her skin like a lover. Like Jellal longed to do.

By no means was she the only one braving the cold night—the balcony was filled with partygoers that smoked cigars and cigarettes stuffed into opera length cigarette holders, but she was the only one without a coat. The night air was biting, but she didn't shiver, she was too lost in her thoughts to pay attention to anything so human.

Though he knew it would make her uncomfortable, Jellal came up beside her and leaned his own forearms against the railing, so close that their shoulders kissed together. He expected Erza to jump. Had hoped...

She only stiffened and snagged her lip between her teeth.

As calmly as he could, Jellal sipped on his champagne and offered her the other glass. Erza didn't take it, so he set it down next to his elbow and took another deep swig. When he swallowed, he put that glass down too and drummed up the words to ask, "Aren't you cold out here?"

Instead of answering, Erza asked, "Do you miss him too?"

Jellal's stomach flopped. "Him?" he asked even though he knew perfectly well who she spoke of.

Erza entertained him. "Jellal." Thankfully, she kept facing forward so she didn't see the way he closed his eyes and savored his name falling from her lips. Now, if only she would face him, if only her hands were in his hair, if only she'd whisper his name between frantic kisses and pinching bites. That would be heaven and hell.

"Siegrain?" She turned her head just slightly so she could look at him from dark-rimmed eyes. There was a thin line of eyeliner that had smeared just under her lashes. Jellal wondered if a stray tear caused it.

"I suppose."

She looked relieved to hear that. Had so many years missing him made her feel guilty? After all, he was a criminal. He loved that she felt conflicted. He also hated it, too. Erza asked, "What do you miss most about him?"

Jellal didn't have to fake being off-balance. He didn't expect the wash of sympathy and heartache that followed her question, or the abrupt truth that tumbled out of his mouth without his permission. "The boy he used to be." _The way_ we _used to be._ He didn't dare say the last, though he longed to.

Erza wrapped her arms around her chest and turned to face him properly.

Jellal wanted to push her hair back from her face. Instead, he did something perhaps even more intimate. Using his thumb, he swiped under her eye, wicking away moisture. Erza looked like she wanted to jerk away from him, but she also like she wanted to lean in to his touch. She did neither.

In a whisper, Erza said, "I shouldn't be here."

"Are you going to leave me here by myself?" Jellal almost wished she would. It was hard to remember to be angry when she looked at him so pleadingly, and he badly wanted to be angry in that moment—it was easier to deal with than the tumult of emotions all fighting for front row.

Erza gnawed on her lip. "I only came because Master wanted me to network for Fairy Tail."

Jellal saw through her lie. "That's the only reason?"

Erza had been gripping her dress so tightly, Jellal feared for the delicate fabric. She seemed to realize, too, and traded holding that for holding her arms. "I—I was curious."

Mercilessly, Jellal asked, "About me or about my brother?" He felt like he was pulling nails from her skin, nice and slow. Her face pinched with a sweet, satisfying pain.

Erza's cough drop-coloured tongue slid over her lips. She turned her gaze outward as she said, "Can't it be both?" and Jellal's stomach flopped again.

"What were you to each other?" He couldn't make himself _shut up_.

She stayed looking at the horizon as she said, "We were kids."

From inside the building, the Chairman took the stage again and called everyone in. Erza didn't seem to hear or notice the exodus moving from the balcony and Jellal didn't tell her. "That doesn't answer my question."

Erza said, "I don't know."

"You don't know, or you won't tell?" He smiled, having fun despite his nervousness.

She scowled at him. "It's private."

Jellal had little respect for her discomfort. "Did you love him?"

She finally looked away from the skyline and searched his eyes. Though her tongue wouldn't seem to move around _yes,_ Jellal saw it in her eyes and _memorized_ it. He wanted to grin ear-to-ear. He wanted to grab her and kiss her. He wanted to scream and demand to know _why_ , if she loved him so fucking much, did she leave. Instead of touching her, he made himself shove his hand through his hair, then schooled his features out of viciousness. "Did he love you, do you suppose?"

"He only loved his tower."

It was like she'd punched him hard in the gut. He opened his mouth to tell her that wasn't true—but maybe it was. Zeref took up every single thought that Erza herself didn't steal. He _did_ love his tower. And soon, she would be a part of it; it seemed fitting. Everything he'd ever loved in the world, all in one place. It would have been nice if things played out differently though. Musing was always fun, and pretend was a game he played well. Thinking that gave him the courage to say, "Then he was a fool."

"Do you think?"

Jellal plucked at the sleeve of his jacket while he formulated an answer and as he did so, he felt Erza's eyes and knew she was drawing parallels. That—pulling at his clothes—was a tick that had followed him from childhood. He tucked his hands in his pockets to keep his cover _and_ to keep himself from tearing the threads out of his suit. "Yes, I do think that." With a pounding heart, he added, "If I had you, I wouldn't ever let you go, Erza." _Not again_. Not until it was time for Zeref to come back, and then, he wouldn't be letting her go for long.

Erza's face blanked. Then got closed off as soon as her shock wore off. A scowl kissed her red as roses mouth. "Do you think this is funny?"

She was so venomous, but it was a honeyed sting. Jellal relished it. "Does it look like I'm laughing?"

"If you're not enjoying this, then why—"

"I told you, the truth always suited me well," he replied steadily. The only thing that belied his calm was the roughness in his voice, but Erza didn't know him well enough anymore to see through his tells. "And what is more truthful than my first impression of the mage, Erza Scarlet? The fiery woman that took my breath away?"

She looked like she wanted to pummel him. And also like she wanted him to keep going, to make up for all the years of praise he missed while they'd been apart. Jellal thought he could oblige if only to revisit that expression she wore.

Jellal allowed himself to take his hand out of his pocket so he could grab up his glass off the railing and take a long, nerve-calming sip. Setting it down again, he admitted, "When I saw you outside the Magic Council building that first time, Erza… I couldn't look away. You were the most captivating thing I'd ever seen—"

And that seemed to be far enough. "M-master Siegrain—"

Jellal's smile was razor sharp. He always liked the sound of Master, and hearing it come from Erza was one of the most beautiful things he could ever imagine. "I thought I just had to know you."

"Please—"

He ignored her. "You were so _stunning_ , and _violent_. I thought you were going to cut me open right there."

Erza's hands shook. "I didn't mean—"

The wind kicked up and grabbed a lock of her hair from its braid. This time, Jellal did what he wanted and dared to tuck it behind her ear. Even though it looked like she was going to run him though, he left his hand against her cheek. "You were so fierce; you were beautiful."

"Siegrain—"

Her cheek was soft, Jellal thought he could just touch her forever, learn every single part of her in a way he never could before. "I'll confess; I didn't really invite you here tonight so I could brag—"

Her eyes were wide as medallions. "Stop talking _._ "

He didn't; there was no _command_ to her voice. She didn't _want_ him to stop, not really, despite what her mouth said. "I wanted you here because I couldn't imagine letting you just disappear again." Jellal licked his suddenly dry lips. "I want to kiss you, Erza."

Erza looked like her knees were going to give out. Maybe they would have, but Jellal had somehow pressed her back against the balustrade; there was no space between them. "I—"

"Is that alright?" His lips were so close; Jellal could feel them just gently brushing hers. "Erza?"

Erza gripped the lapels of his jacket; Jellal didn't think she even realized it. "We just met—"

Though he hadn't really touched her yet, Jellal's mouth burned. His fingers on her hips were too tight. Through the fabric of her dress, he could feel the way she shivered. Cold or nervous?

Nervous and cold.

 _You can take what you want_. It would be so easy. And maybe she'd be his…

On the surface.

Kissing her now certainly wouldn't garner her trust though. No—Erza was a flower that had to be encouraged to bloom all on her own. The only true satisfaction he would have would be when she begged. When she shook and wanted it so badly—wanted _him_ so badly—that she took it for herself.

Biting his cheek hard and sucking in a deep breath, Jellal made himself lean away. Erza looked both sad and so relieved, it seemed she might cry. Her hands still clutched his jacket. For a moment, Jellal imagined she'd say to hell with it all and pull him back in. Wouldn't that be a treat? The indomitable Erza Scarlet, reduced to mindless savagery so quickly. He liked the idea of her needing him so badly she couldn't help herself. _Soon. Soon. Soon._

_I want it now._

With a lot of effort, he reached up and grabbed her wrists. Erza seemed to realize that she needed to let him go. Her fingers were stiff when she released him.

"I don't—I'm not usually so forward." Jellal held her hands steady and tickled her wrists.

Erza's breath hitched. "Siegrain…"

He squeezed her wrists tight and said with conviction, "Next time we're like this, it will be because you ask me to be."

Erza's only response was, "I want to go home."

Jellal released her. She looked hectic and erratic, like she was apt to do something drastic if he said anything other than what she wanted to hear. "Of course. The carriage is still out front waiting—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence; Erza pulled away from him and broke for the balcony doors. Jellal watched her go, debating whether or not to follow. In the end, he decided not.

A moment later, the doors opened again and Ultear slipped out. She'd left her coat behind, so her skin was brushed by moonlight. "Is that your date I just saw racing away?"

"It was," he agreed.

She smiled widely and stepped closer so she could grab his suit jacket and straighten it. "Did you do what you wanted?"

"Partially…"

"You're mean, has anyone ever told you that before?" Her hands slid up his chest and under his jacket so she could squeeze his shoulders.

"You shouldn't be doing this here."

Ultear's smile was as prickly as thorns. "You look like maybe you need some release."

Ultear was a pale substitute for Erza Scarlet. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Erza's fiery red hair dip into the waiting carriage. A second later, his twin Clydesdales clopped out into the night, dragging her away from him.

Ultear let her hands slide back down his chest so she could grasp between his legs. He caught her wrist and held her tight, but didn't push her away. "Do you think I can break her?"

"I think she's already falling apart." Her thumb worked over him slowly.

Hearing that was bittersweet. A look inside the Council building told him that Crawford was still talking. With a grunt, he grabbed Ultear by the shoulders and pushed her back against the brick wall, so they were mostly in the shadows. There, he did to her what he imagined doing to Erza. It wasn't the same, not even close, but by the end of it, maybe he was a little less frustrated.

 


	7. Chapter 7

_Erza._

_Scarlet._

_I write your name at the top of a letter and wish I could scribe down all the things I want to say. Nothing will come. Nothing meaningful, anyway. I could write words and words and words until my fingers are raw and bloody, until my bones are dull and rounded, until the page is torn because I've pressed my quill too hard. It wouldn't ever mean anything. You can read it over and over again—the words will still be worthless. You won't experience what I want you to—no, what I need you to, through pen strokes alone. You need to taste it._

_Last night I dreamed of you, and though I wanted it to be, it wasn't sweet. They're always the same, those dreams, all twisted up with blood and hate and hurt. Red and shame. Over and over. It's a dream so deep its meaningless. In it, I see that day… the men I killed. I see the way you looked at me as they fell to the ground. Horror. Fear. Did you know that now, every single time I take a life, I think of you? How you shouted my name, how you whispered it. Shame and pleasure. Maybe it's fitting. Whenever I really want to hate us both, I remember. And sometimes even when I don't._

* * *

 

Erza almost fell out of the carriage, throwing open its narrow door and barreling out even before it had fully rolled to a stop. The driver shouted something-maybe he wanted a tip; she didn't slow to check.

Snow slipped into the toes of her shoes; that didn't hinder her-it only made her run faster. Wet, her feet slid around and she almost slipped again. Then she fell back on her training and impossibly found her balance.

"Erza," someone called from the shadows. "Hey."

Erza didn't stop to see who it was, just kept moving until the door to Fairy Hills was behind her and she was racing up the stairs to her room.

Rounding the corner, she almost ran into a stumbling Cana. The girl wore a sloppy smile on her face and had a mostly drunk bottle of whisky in her hand. "Hey, Erzie!"

Erza might have scowled at the name if she wasn't so rattled. Ignoring Cana, she threw wide her door and slipped inside, then closed it again so the woman couldn't follow.

Then…. Then she kicked off her shoes and paced. And paced. And paced until she was too tired, then threw herself down on the bed, threaded her fingers through her hair, pulled until it hurt and imagined kissing Siegrain Fernandez.

' _The next time…'_

_There won't be a next time._

She almost believed herself.

* * *

 

In her dream, Siegrain's mouth was warm and his hands were cold. They moved up into her hair, then wandered back down her body like he just couldn't stop. She didn't want him to; she thought she would give anything to have him not.

" _Erza_." The way he whispered her name was so reverent. " _Erza Scarlet and her scarlet hair."_ He pulled her hair until it hurt. " _Do you miss the Tower of Heaven?"_

She nodded yes because the tower still held her heart.

* * *

 

The next morning, Erza woke up with eyeliner smudged under her eye and the remnants of lipstick staining her mouth. Her hair was crimpy from her braids and puffy, like she'd received an electrical shock, and last night's dress was twisted around her waist like a vice. A quick shower erased any visual evidence from the previous night, but nothing could blur out her memory.

Hungry for something to do, she adorned her armour and prepared to go to the guild, dreaming of a two-month long job, something she could lose herself in, something violent and bloody and exhausting. Something that would stop her thinking of Jellal and Siegrain and Siegrain and Jellal.

She almost went back to pulling her hair. Instead, she ran her towel through it again, then brushed it slowly. It was wet against the metal of her armour; she hoped it wouldn't rust.

Once ready, she tore open her apartment door and almost fell over a short, yet wide wicker basket. With a hop and a skip, she corrected herself, then stared down at the thing in confusion.

_What is it?_

_It's from_ …

She shook herself. _No. It's not_.

Stooping, she grabbed it up. It was heavy as all hell and adorned in opaque, black cellophane. The whole thing was topped with a scarlet red bow.

_It's not._

To prove it to herself, she took it inside and set it down on her worn and scratched dresser, intent upon opening it. The packaging rustled irritatingly; each time it crinkled, it seemed to scream Siegrain.

 _It's you, being crazy, imagining things_. Because really, why the hell would he send her something after the way she ran out on him last night? _And I told him not to send me anything anymore._

Right. He seemed exactly like the kind of man that did as he was told.

'Yes men' don't get to sit on the Magic Council.

With each passing second, she became surer that it was from Siegrain. And she became surer that she couldn't look inside. _Why_? Because she didn't want to think of him. She didn't want to like him. She didn't want to receive gifts from him. With a frustrated huff, she turned her back on her dresser and stalked out of her room. The door slammed so hard in her wake that the thin walls shook. From the next room over, Laki let out a squeak, startled from sleep. Erza had a moment where she almost felt bad; it passed with the help of irritation.

* * *

 

The guild hall was nearly empty so early in the morning. Nab stood beside the request board, Gray was slumped on one of the tables, mostly naked and drooling ice cubes while he snored, and Mira stood behind the bar drying cups from last nights' shenanigans, her back facing the door so she didn't see Erza come in.

Remembering the takeover mage's probing questions and their abrupt departure last night, Erza casted her eyes to the ground and hurried as quickly and as silently as she could to the request board. Her armour wasn't the stealthiest. Every now and again, the armpit would squeal against the breastplate loudly. Every time it happened, Erza stiffened and expected Mira's clear voice to call her over. When it didn't, she held her arms out wide to avoid further noise and tiptoed the rest of the distance. While she approached Nab's broad back, she prayed that he'd be so absorbed in reading the requests that he wouldn't greet her. If he tries, I'll beat him to death. Maybe that was a little excessive for saying hello, but she'd do anything to avoid Mira's inevitable questions.

Coming to rest just a few feet behind Nab, Erza squinted her eyes and scoured the request board's porous surface for something horrific and long, something to offer her some kind of escape.

The job board was pretty clean.

 _Come on, come on_ , the redhead thought. _Come on…._

Nab reached out, hand hovering over a job with a 50,000 jewel reward, then he sighed loudly and let his hand drop again. With renewed lethargy, he kept looking.

Twice more that happened, each time grating on Erza's nerves a little more, until finally she snapped, "Just choose the one with the lowest reward, Nab, then you can come back here and stand in front of the job board for another fifteen years while you think."

The man startled and whirled on her. "Erza—!"

From the table, Gray sucked in an abrupt breath. The tinkering of glass hitting the floor and exploding told Erza that Mirajane had also been alerted.

"Erza!"

The requip mage cringed and gave Nab the darkest, scariest look in her repertoire. "You idiot."

"M-me?" he stammered. "W-what did I do?" He looked like he was going to piss himself.

Erza didn't get the chance to answer.

"Erza!" Mira called her again. "How did your date go?"

"Date?" Gray sat up and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, swiping away excess drool. "I thought you didn't date, Erza?"

Erza's scowl got fiercer. Vividly, she imagined skewering Nab on her broadsword and watching him slide all the way up to the hilt. The image was dark, even for her. With some effort, she shook it out of her head and made herself turn. "Clean off that table, Gray, that's gross. This is a guild hall, not your house. And find some clothes."

"What?" The man sat up and looked down at his chest incredulously.

At least he had the decency to look ashamed. Satisfied that Gray looked thoroughly reprimanded, she turned her eyes away from his dark ones and regarded Mira. "Hello, Mira."

The takeover mage came around the bar. Today, she wore a long blue dress with cap sleeves with small pink flowers dotting the outside. On her feet were plain black flats. Comfortable working shoes. The whole ensemble was completed with a white apron. Her long hair was rolled up into a neat bun, her bangs pinned back. She looked like Miss-Molly-I-Can-Cook. The perfect image of domestication. Where the hell did the fierce she-devil go? It made Erza sad, if only because she felt like she had to be nice now.

"So?" Mira asked again. "How did it go?"

Erza cleared her throat and found a place on the wall to look at. "Fine."

"Loke said he saw you come in early."

 _That's who was creeping around the building_ , Erza thought.

Mira continued. "Cana came by last night around ten and said something similar."

"Did she?" _Nonchalant is best. If you act like it wasn't a big deal, like your night wasn't a complete failure, she'll just drop—_

"Didn't you like him?"

Mira's words were like a punch in the gut. Again, Erza was thrown back against the balustrade, Siegrain was millimetres from her mouth, so close she could feel his lips barely brushing hers. Just thinking about it, her stomach flipped with excited nerves. _I could think about this forever. I could dream and dream and be happy_. And totally fucked.

"Who is this guy?" Gray asked. He'd found his shirt somewhere, only now it was on inside out. Well, it was better than nothing, anyway.

"He's—"

"Master Siegrain from the Magic Council," Mira supplied unhelpfully.

Gray whistled. "Going big, huh?"

"Shut up, Mira," Erza lashed out. Her cheeks felt so hot. "And Gray—I'm not going anything. I only went because Master asked me to—"

"Well," Mira interjected. Her cheeks were slightly pink, like maybe she was trying not to be mad. "Master Siegrain came by early this morning—"

Erza's ears roared. "No, he didn't."

"Yes," she assured.

"Stop messing around, Mira, that's not funny," Erza wasn't quite able to control the venom in her voice. "If you're pissed about last night, this isn't the way to make me say sorry."

"Last night?" Her pretty face screwed up in confusion, then a lightbulb went on and it cleared. "Oh. About the panties—"

"Panties?" Gray both perked up and flushed.

Erza ground her teeth together and prayed to any god that would listen for the courage and strength not to pummel her defenseless childhood rival through the goddamn floorboards. "I'm sorry, you've made your point." The apology was ground out through clenched teeth. "Now, if you don't mind…" She tried to go back to the job board.

"Apology accepted. You _were_ rather rude, but I really wasn't playing around." Mira came to stand at her side, either oblivious to her peril or totally uncaring. Maybe both. "He asked for you, and when I told him that you weren't here, he left you this note." From the pocket of her apron she produced a worn-looking piece of paper.

_What does it say? That he was disappointed in your behaviour last night? That he's telling Master how terrible you were for company?_

_That he wants to see you again?_

Childishly, Erza clamped her hands together and didn't accept the note. "No, thank you."

Mira raised a pale brow. "You're not going to read it?"

"Nope." She said it with false cheer and turned on her heel, thinking _the hell with the job board and the hell with this._

"Well… I can tell you what it says."

Erza halted in her tracks and kept her back turned to Mira. "You read my note?"

Mira ignored the warning in the redhead's voice. "When he gave it to me, it was unfolded." She said it so innocently.

"You're a sneaking little gossip, Mirajane." Erza finally whirled on her.

Mira's smile was ear-to-ear. "He wants to meet today at Maple Park around ten. Before he left, he said he sent a basket to your room, but he didn't think you'd open it."

Again, Mira's words punched into her. _How does he know me so well?_

"Did you?"

"Did—did I what?" Erza's head was still spinning.

"Did you open the package?" Mira asked exasperatedly.

Erza knitted her brows together. "Just give me the note, Mira."

"I thought you didn't want it?"

 _And this is why I spent almost ten years kicking your ass_ , Erza thought savagely. "NOTE. NOW."

Mira handed over the ink stained parchment with a small smile on her mouth, a ghost of her former self. Erza snatched the paper away and didn't bother to say thank you. Mira didn't deserve it.

* * *

 

Standing against the exterior of the guild, she read thenote again and again; it never yielded anything more, but she looked anyway.

 _Erza_ , it read. She tried not to look at the way he did his Z's exactly like Jellal's. _You're imagining things. You want it to be and so you're seeing whatever the hell you want_. She kept reading.

_I have something for you. Please, meet me at Maple Park at ten by the indoor gardens._

Erza scoffed _. Indoor gardens. Why the hell does he want to meet there?_

 _Maybe he wants to walk around with you?_ She shook the thought away as soon as it formed. Not only just no, but men didn't do stuff like that for her. Men were intimidated by her. Men wanted to fight her and prove that they were stronger than her. Men wanted to arm wrestle and clash swords. Men wanted their pride and their penises and their sweet, delicate girls. That was it.

As soon as the thought presented itself, she felt terrible for it. Generalization was a dangerous thing.

Folding the note along the already worn crease, she tucked it into her pocket for safekeeping, then thrust her hands through her hair and held in a frustrated cry. The wind kissed against her face, both cold and calming. The sun slipped behind a cloud. Winter birds chirped.

_It won't be the end of the world if you go. Maybe just… just see what he wants._

Just to prove to herself that it wasn't about the damn gardens.

' _The next time we're like this_ —'

That was a precarious thought, and she was all too willing to tumble over the precipice.

* * *

 

Using her magic, she changed three times. Once into a long sleeved dress—it looked good, but like she was trying too hard—once back into her armour, which was comforting but hardly flattering—then the last time into a short black skirt with tall, soft leather boots and a light blue, tight-fitting sweater that dipped almost too low in the front. She almost changed again, but knew that this was a good mix, not too casual, not too formal, just right for an ambiguous meeting. _I should leave my armour on._

The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that if she needed it, it was just a thought away.

Pulling her long black coat tighter around her body, she set off at a fast walk. The day was so bright with the sun reflecting off the snow, she had to squint to see properly. The wind kept grabbing her hair and whipping it in front of her eyes. Impatiently, she pushed it back and foolishly worried that it was going to be everywhere. _Shut up,_ she thought _, that stuff doesn't matter. Who cares if you look good or not?_

The conviction just wasn't there.

Walking faster, she ploughed through the melting snow, catching it on the end of her boots and kicking giant wet globs ahead of her. The closer she came to Maple Park the more her stomach whirled, until she was popping her thumb into her mouth and chewing mercilessly at the skin around her nail. It hurt, but the pain helped keep her head clear.

* * *

 

Jellal knew the second Erza stepped into the park.

Turning from the living wall he studied, he found her trudging up the trodden path. The wind kept catching her hair, running through it like fingers. The strands were brighter than blood in the light of the sun and curling slightly at the ends. She was beautiful. He couldn't decide if she looked better by the sunlight or the light of the moon. _Maybe she's perfect all the time._

She must have felt him looking at her because she lifted her dark gaze and automatically found him beside the rose bush. As soon as their eyes met, she dropped looked down and focused on the stairs. Her steps were slow and calculated. _She's gathering her thoughts,_ Jellal mused with a small smirk. Her expression looked troubled. _She's worried._ Stressed. And yet, eager. She couldn't take her eyes off him for long; she was back to looking at him in seconds.

The blade in his hand felt heavy. Swallowing tightly, he folded its sharp edge back into the wooden handle and tucked it into his coat pocket, then made himself ease his grip on the rose he carried. Pain told him that the thorns had dug into his skin and now he was bleeding. The throbbing was secondary to the aching eagerness in his hollow-feeling chest. She was close now. Sucking in a rattling breath, he caught her scent on the breeze. Honeysuckle. It was a smell that went well with the metallic aroma of blood. The knife weighed heavy in his pocket.

 


	8. Chapter 8

_Feeling the knife's weight in my pocket and looking into her dark eyes, I know—_

_If…._

_If I wanted…._

_I could do something drastic. I_ would _._

_I am capable._

_It scares me. And yet, I love the freedom it grants me._

_Erza Scarlet… you're mine in a way you can't even fathom._

* * *

 

Erza's heart throbbed against her ribs as she moved up the path. The wind kept catching her hair and twisting it around her neck like a noose. _I should have done it up_. _I still can._ She knew she wouldn't.

_Because he likes it down._

She bit her tongue hard and reprimanded herself. Jellal liked her hair down. Siegrain… _Gods, what am I doing here?_ Still, her feet moved, trekking over the slushy ground. The wind kicked up again and grabbed the hem of her skirt. Erza caught it and pulled it down, determined not to flash him her panties and make their meeting any more awkward. Her eyes fell to the rose clutched in his hand and her heart fluttered again. _Really? You're getting excited over a damn rose? Idiot. Lamest move in the book._ But it wasn't very often that she got called out to an indoor garden and had a rose cut fresh for her. Like… not ever. She ground her teeth together to keep at bay a rush of giddiness. _You don't even know if it's for you_.

Neither one of them spoke until they were only feet apart, and then it was Siegrain that broke the silence. "I suppose you skipped the package and got my note, because you're here and not off enjoying it." He smirked at some private joke.

His voice rolled over her skin like warm honey, deep and mostly familiar. "I told you not to send me anything."

"I couldn't help it."

"What was in it?"

His cheeks actually went red. "That… ah." He laughed.

"What?" Erza asked. What could be so bad to make him blush?

"I think if you're curious, you'll have to see for yourself." His smile was almost boyish, all teeth and sheepishness.

Erza's heart panged. Suddenly, she wished she'd opened the package, she was just dying to know what was in it.

 _No, no, no,_ she thought a moment later. "Siegrain…"

"Yes?" He held out the rose to her.

Erza was reaching for it before she really knew what she was doing. _Stop._ She didn't. The stem was thorny; it poked her so hard that a bead of red welled to the surface. It hurt enough that she hissed and pinched the area.

He flashed her his own torn palm. "They're sharp."

Erza expected 'be careful' to follow that, but it didn't. Siegrain just grabbed her hand and held it up high so he could look at her finger. There was a moment when Erza thought he was actually going to pop it into his mouth and suck away the blood, then he blinked and his expression eased from one of morbid curiosity to mild concern. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she said after a second of silence. _What would you have done? Tell him he was strange? Let him lick away the blood?_ She didn't know, though she knew what the answer _should_ have been. Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand away from him and rubbed it on her coat. The wound was already congealing.

"Come inside." He nodded to the glass building bursting with life just over his shoulder.

Erza hesitated. "I shouldn't…"

He was already turning from her and opening the door. From inside, warm, flower-fragrant air rushed out. Against her better judgement, Erza entered after him. The mat on the ground was soaked with melted snow, but as far as she could tell, there were no other people inside the building. There wasn't even a concierge to take their payment.

"Shouldn't there be someone here?"

Siegrain closed the door firmly; Erza watched his hand hover over the lock as he said to the door, "It's just us."

"Just us?" she repeated. "But everyone loves the indoor gardens, it should be full—"

He turned back to her. "I rented the building."

That took a second to settle in, but when it did, Erza spat, "The _whole_ thing?"

He gave her a smile that threw her back into the Tower of Heaven. For an instant, she wasn't looking at Siegrain ( _are you_ ever _looking at him?)._ "But—" She trailed off.

Siegrain took advantage of her astonishment, stepping in close to her side and placing his hand on her lower back to guide her over the damp cement floor to a closet for their coats. "Jacket?"

"Um…" She looked up into his familiar face and considered telling him no. Running away was also a valid option in her mind. _Stop it. You should talk to him and then… and then just tell him that you can't do this._ She told herself that the reason why she hadn't already spat it out was because it would be incredibly rude, especially after he'd asked her there and given her a rose…

_Right. That's why._

To avoid her scathing thoughts, she leaned away from him and started working on the buttons of her coat. Her fingers felt fat and clumsy, slow. Siegrain watched her almost greedily. Erza felt indecent rolling the garment off her shoulders and revealing the light blue sweater she'd agonized over. His fingers brushed hers as he took her jacket away and lingered.

"Blue looks lovely on you."

"Thank you," Erza replied.

"But black looks better."

She smoothed the black folds of her skirt and wished that she could adjust her wardrobe and not look like a fool. She hated herself for that whole damn thought.

Siegrain put his hand into his jacket and transferred a knife into his pants pocket. "In case we want to cut more flowers," he said in response to her curious look.

Erza felt her cheeks heat for some stupid reason. "Alright." She watched Siegrain remove his own jacket. Beneath, he wore a high collared long-sleeved T-shirt that was both somehow plain and elegant.

"You're bleeding again." Siegrain turned back around and took Erza's hands in his. From there, he forced her to loosen her hold on the rose.

"I keep forgetting about the thorns." She wouldn't tomorrow-her fingers were going to ache. His resounding smile was roguish. Erza tried to steer the conversation into a safe place. "Your note said that you had something for me," As she spoke, she tried to meet his eyes squarely in an effort to not be shy. It was a little easier because he wore Jellal's face. Or maybe that made it harder-the eyes that were the exact same, the tattoo, the mouth that was so damn familiar, curling in the wickedest way in that very moment. Erza knew that she'd been caught studying him. She almost didn't care. She kept looking and Siegrain closed the closet and leaned against the door.

"We'll get to that. Let me show you the gardens."

Erza fingered the rose's sharp thorn and felt it dig in again. This time, she didn't hiss and she was slower to pull away; the pain helped keep her head clear when it wanted to swim with ridiculous thoughts. Her mouth wasn't as smart. "Alright." _Alright,_ really?

He stood straight and held out his arm for her to take. Erza allowed herself that torture. His skin was warm through his shirt. She stepped into his side and felt the blood roar in her ears. It felt good to be near him. It felt awful. She tried to ignore both sensations and let him lead her out of the entryway and into the actual gardens.

The room opened wide, revealing floor to ceiling plants. Some were green, most were topped with vibrant flower heads, but all of them were lively. Below was a path of intricate stonework, granite and marble and glass-covered magnetite all mixed together to create something unique. Above was the clear glass ceiling that caught the sunlight and encouraged it to trickle down on the faces of many different flowers. To Erza's left and to her right were immense gardens overflowing with a myriad of species, all of which were bright and cheerful. Bees and the occasional butterfly lifted from pistils and took to the air, buzzing around them as they walked. It was a totally different world in here, sheltered from the winter cold.

 _It's nice to be warm again_ , Erza thought _._ And it was nice being amongst all the life. For a breath, she let herself imagine she could be happy. That _this_ could be her life.

As she walked and fantasized, she waited for Siegrain to fill the silence. He seemed satisfied to watch her from the corner of his eye. She felt his gaze drift over her form and she knew where he was looking. She wasn't even mad.

The pathway bent around a mountain of purple peonies and revealed an ocean of red. The roses smelled pungently sweet. Erza breathed in deeply and out again and again and allowed herself to be brought to a wrought iron bench in front of the rose garden. Only then did Siegrain release her.

"Sit."

It was a command she couldn't disobey. Her legs felt like jelly on the way down, like she was weak and exhausted, like she'd walked miles and miles, not less than half of the indoor gardens.

Siegrain sat next to her, one leg tucked beneath him, his body turned so he was facing her. "You know," he said, "There isn't a flower in here more beautiful than you. But… the roses come close."

Erza flushed, unsure of how to accept the compliment.

Siegrain's smile had lost its cutting edge and now it was shy. "Thank you for coming."

Erza wrung her hands together as if she were a nervous child, not an adult with a half-decent brain in her head, not an S-class mage and one of the strongest wizards in Fairy Tail. _This should stop now, before it can't._

"You look good in red," he continued and skimmed his finger over the petals of Erza's rose. Erza's heart beat so fast she thought it'd crawl right out of her chest. Siegrain pulled away from her so he could go rooting through his pockets. He came out a second later with a small box in hand. "This is partially why I wanted to see you." Opening the box revealed her earring. It had been repaired, then cleaned and polished, so it looked so much brighter than the other one. Without waiting for permission, he leaned in and brushed her hair back from her shoulder. Erza told herself to push him off and put it in herself, but she felt sewn in place. Carefully, he slipped the earring through the hole, pushing it until it dangled out of her earlobe once more. His fingers lingered, trailing down her neck and giving her goose bumps.

Erza shivered and was ashamed when she couldn't hide it. _You have to stop this now._ "Siegrain…" She forced his name out. "I only came to tell you that—" Saying what came next kind of felt like tearing her insides apart, but… "I can't see you anymore."

He looked startled, then his face smoothed into casualness. "No?"

"No," Erza said as firmly as she could.

Siegrain took his hand away from her throat and put it in his pocket. "How long did you practice that speech?"

Erza flushed and said honestly, "All the way over here. No… since you asked me to that ball."

"You've been thinking of a way to turn me down for days?" He didn't say it like he was heartbroken or devastated. He said it like a man not believing a single word she said. Erza hated him and herself for her lacking conviction.

"I can't—"

"You're a liar, Erza Scarlet."

"What?"

"If you didn't want to see me, you would have told me no when I asked you out—"

"Master wanted me to—"

He spoke over her. "You are a strong and capable woman. You do what you want, what you feel is right. Or are you going to tell me differently?"

"Master Siegrain—" Erza's voice warbled and Siegrain's eyes got sharp.

"Are you?"

When she faltered, she scowled; it felt like the only defense she had left.

"I didn't think so. My question to you, Erza, is why can't you just accept that you're curious about me?"

He was too close. Erza didn't even remember him leaning into her. She couldn't lean away, though, paralyzed when he went back to touching her hair. It was knotted by the outside wind, but he didn't seem to care, his fingers worked through it steadily. "You're so beautiful, Erza."

No one had ever looked at her like that before, hungry and desperate. Erza's lungs felt tiny. "Siegrain…"

"I said I wouldn't kiss you." His voice dropped so it was just barely a rough whisper. "But I want to. Do you think it makes me a bad man to do it anyway?"

He was close enough that his breath broke across her lips, warm and rich with coffee. Erza's eyes dropped to his mouth; dark stubble was just starting on his cheeks. He'd shaved the day before, but not that morning. _Will it be rough?_ Her heart fluttered, her stomach tumbled, her hands shook and her breath seized and the rational Erza rioted. She took a backseat while this new Erza leaned in and met his mouth.

At first, Siegrain didn't kiss her back. Erza almost pulled away, ashamed, and then last moment, he moved his mouth against hers, to kiss her achingly slow and gruelingly soft.

Erza didn't know if she would have kept going. She was torn, half wanting to cry, half wanting to use Siegrain as a means to pour out her frustration. _That's not fair._ She wasn't much interested in fairness.

Hands found her wrists and squeezed them tight. it was then Erza realized that she'd grabbed his jacket and used it to pull him in close. Embarrassment cut through her irrationality, bringing her crashing back to herself. She pulled away slowly; her mouth was throbbing.

"I'm—sorry, Master—" She cleared her throat. "I mean, Siegrain. I don't—"

Siegrain kept his eyes closed for a breath and when he opened them again, it was to say, "I told you that you would be the one to kiss me."

Erza startled. "I didn't mean—"

He cut her off. "Come out with me tomorrow night."

She caught her breath. "What?"

"Please."

"I—I can't, Siegrain." Erza wanted to thrust her hands through her hair and pull it, but she still hadn't let go of his jacket.

"Yes, you can. I work, but come by the council building at five. Please."

Erza licked her lips, tasting him there. _Gods. I'm really going to…_ "Okay."

Siegrain ran his fingers through her hair and didn't slow when he pulled on the knots. Erza didn't even flinch; she was too busy staring at him wondering, _what the hell have I done?_

Exactly what she wanted to do.

"I only rented the building for an hour." Siegrain glanced at the clock on the wall. "We should get going, but…"

"But?"

Siegrain leaned in again and caught her mouth and kissed her until his lips felt bruised and their hour was up and they absolutely had to leave.

Erza thought he was a breath of life. And he was a knife.

 


	9. Chapter 9

_This is what torment feels like. Spiders with their spindle legs crawling through my brain, spinning webs and webs of deceit and pain, love and ache until not even I know what is real._

_This._

_This is what torment feels like._

_The wind howls and whispers her name. Whispers, whispers. Always it whispers, even when I dream._

_This is what torment feels like._

_The memory of her mouth, and the feel of her breath. Like chasing the sun over the horizon. It will feel out of reach until she comes back and shines upon me again._

_This is what_

_torment_

_feels like._

_I should never have kissed that girl._

_I should have pulled out that knife like I wanted. I should have slit her, chest to chin. I should have dropped her in the roses and left her to rot. Now I can't stop. I can't stop thinking about her. She is toxic in my veins._

_No. I should never have kissed that girl._

_So now I drown in torment._

* * *

 

Jellal thrust open his loft apartment and came inside in a whirl of cold air and agitation _. Never_. His mouth throbbed and his body ached and all he could think about was honeysuckle and that fucking red hair. Grabbing the lapels of his coat, he tore it roughly from his body and threw it as hard as he could, aiming for the wall housing the abstract painting that always reminded him of both Erza, and the sunset over the ocean as seen from the Tower of Heaven. Both picture and coat fell to the floor, one in a gush of glass and noise, the other in a dissatisfying heap. Jellal glared at them until his rage bubbled over and consumed him. Blindly, he stalked over and kicked the painting, again and again, smashing the remaining glass, destroying the canvass and denting the wall behind.

Even after the painting was demolished, just a frame and shreds of red, it still wasn't enough. Pushing his fingers through his hair, he pulled it until it hurt and let out a meaningless growl. He needed something else to ruin.

Turning, he prowled to the middle of the room and grabbed the edges of his wooden coffee table. Effortlessly, he lifted it high and threw it as far as he could. It skidded across the floor, one leg broken clean off, and spun to the edge of the bed. A high heeled foot stuck out and caught it before it could smack against the bed frame.

Jellal, still frustrated and fuming, finally noticed Ultear. There were very few clothes on her body, a black, leather corset, a scarlet red thong and a pair of tall, black boots. All of his favorite things.

"Get out."

Ultear pushed the table back a few inches and stood on her stiletto heels. "Bad date?"

"Did you not just hear me?" Jellal asked through gritted teeth.

Ultear ignored the warning and stepped over the broken table. "I guess that's why I'm here, to make things better for you." She got nice and close, then lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck. "Let me help you forget—"

Jellal grabbed her by the wrist, spun her around and forced her against the wall. She hit hard, face pressed up against the drywall, her back to him. Jellal kept her there with one hand fisted in her hair, the other holding her wrist twisted behind her back. Instead of gasping or getting scared, Ultear laughed. "You're in a shitty mood. Did Erza tell you to fuck your hand?"

Jellal gripped her hair tighter and imagined spinning her neck around and killing her. She'd been helpful for Zeref's resurrection, but she wasn't _integral_. "Keep talking Ultear."

She laughed again and reached behind herself so she could massage him through his pants. Jellal hated that he was hard. He also hated that it felt good. "So she turned you down. We'll get a new sacrifice and I'll take care of you until Zeref comes along. After that, I'm sure my attentions will be elsewhere, but you understand."

Her obsession rivaled his own. "Erza didn't turn me down," he said after a second. Most of him wished that she had.

Ultear's hand slowed. "Oh no? Then why so angry?"

His silence spoke louder than words.

Ultear was perceptive and wielded her words like a knife. "You talk about how you want to ruin her; you want to break her. There's only one person I see falling apart here, Jellal, and that's you."

He pushed her face harder against the wall. "Shut up."

"No. I told you, you were too close to this. We can use anyone as a sacrifice, as long as they're strong enough. Just kill the girl and be done with it."

"Not. Yet." He squeezed her wrist harder and pressed his hips against her backside, not quite able to help himself.

Ultear winced, but it was an expression lost inside a wicked smile. "You've been so busy playing boyfriend, you've forgotten about Lord Zeref, but we have to make our move soon, Jellal. I can't stand not having him by my side."

Jellal felt like she knocked the wind out of him. "I would never forget about Lord Zeref."

"Then put an end to this. Kill her or bring her to the Tower of Heaven, leave her there until we're ready."

He ground his teeth together. "Not yet."

Ultear squeezed his erection hard. "If you don't—"

"Then what?" Jellal challenged. "You have nothing to threaten me with, Ultear."

"I'm not making threats. I'm trying to _help_ you."

He pulled her hair harder still. "You can help me by shutting the fuck up and letting me do this."

"Jellal—"

He wasn't listening. "I'm the one pulling the strings, Ultear. As you said, _you're_ helping _me._ The Tower of Heaven is _mine_. Erza's death will bring Zeref into this world, and I'm going to be the one to kill her. But when I'm ready. This is the way I'm doing things. You're either with me or against me, but I do not need your permission."

"I just want him to come back," she said after a moment.

"I do, too." More than anything.

Encouraged, Ultear said, "I know you're having fun, but we should move before the council gets suspicious."

She sounded so reasonable. Jellal expelled a loud breath. _Kill Erza._ That was coming. But not yet. Not yet.

Ultear wriggled her wrist; Jellal dropped his hand from her hair and loosened his hold enough that she could turn and face him. Her cheeks were high with excited colour, her breathing was a little too fast, and her hair was mussed. "Promise you won't forget our purpose."

"I promise," Jellal said after a beat.

She smiled and reached for him again. Her hands knew what he liked. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation for just a moment, then caught her wrist again. She was going to have bruises; he didn't care. "I said get out."

She looked miffed. "But—"

Jellal pushed her back so she hit hard against the wall. She looked stunned and angry, though not the kind of angry that begets hate; it was the kind that started a fire. She licked her lips and smiled. "I'll think of you tonight."

Between his legs throbbed as he imagined what she meant. _You can just take what she offers_. It would be easy and it would feel good. Allowing himself a moment of reprieve, he grabbed both her breasts. The leather of her corset was restricting and kept much of her away from him. When that wasn't enough, he reached down and grabbed her behind roughly.

"It doesn't feel like you want me to go." Ultear's voice was breathy.

Jellal squeezed her once more, hard. "You're wrong. I don't need a fuck doll tonight." He wanted Erza. Ultear just wouldn't do.

Her anger was more of a palpable thing now. She didn't say anything else to him, just pushed him off and crossed the room to the long, silken robe she'd thrown over his couch when she'd first arrived.

Jellal listened until the door closed behind her, then looked around his apartment. It was a mess. _You should clean it up._ Just in case he had a visitor. Between his legs pulsed again and he decided that it could wait.

* * *

 

It was dark when Erza arrived back at Fairy Hills. Unhindered, she ascended the steps, feeling both weightless and shackled, and slipped into her room. Flicking on the light, her eyes were drawn inexorably towards that package. _I don't want to know what it is_. Definitely not. _If I don't know, I won't want to open it. If I don't open it, I won't see what's inside._ Just in case it was something to further erode her resolve. She didn’t _want_ to like Siegrain.

Even as she thought it, she knew it was too late, he was all she could think about. _Because you kissed him_. It felt like it had happened to someone else, some other girl by the name of Erza, some Erza that was braver than she, some Erza that knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it.

Erza tried to go about her business and pretend that the package wasn't there, but her curiosity had always been a vice. She'd just barely gotten her coat and boots off when her resolve wore down and she bowed into want.

Going to her dresser, she glared at the thing as if it were its fault that she had lost her mind and kissed Jellal's look-a-like. _Fuck. You're crazy._ Crazy didn't even begin to cover it. _If that's the case, then what difference does it make if I open his gift or not_? Not a hell of a lot, for sure. She'd already done just about the worst thing she could do—kiss him and agree to meet him tomorrow.

With a dejected and resigned sigh, she grabbed that silken, red ribbon and tugged it from its home. It fell away in a soft wave; the onyx wrapping paper stayed exactly where it was, bunched up and held in place by memory. Carefully, she grabbed its corners and worked it down.

She almost laughed when she saw what was hidden beneath; maybe she would have if it was from anyone else. A small cake slathered with strawberry icing stared back at her, its edges inexpertly molded. Atop its pink face sat a note. She hardly dared to pick it up and read it.

 _Your favorite._ The statement threw her off balance. _I promise it is as amateur as it looks. The steel, at least, is of better quality._

 _Steel?_ Erza looked inside the package and realized that the cake sat atop a box. Turning her mouth to the side, she carefully lifted the sweet by the plate it sat upon, set it down on the dresser, and went for the box. _This is what made the package so heavy before_. With shaking fingers, she lifted the lid and peered inside.

Twin ornate daggers glimmered in the overhead light, their pommels decorated with a single red stone each. The steel around the handgrip was waved in a pattern that reminded her of the ocean, while the blades were so shiny she could see herself reflected in them. In that image, her eyes were wide and surprised. They were very nice daggers. _Expensive_. Why would he give her a gift like that?

Grabbing them up, she tested their weight and balance. They fit into her hands perfectly as if made especially for her, and teetered on her finger when she found the handguard and balanced it. _Maybe they're just ornamental._ She touched the blade, even though she knew she shouldn't, and felt it bite mercilessly into her finger. Slowly, her blood dripped down its glaring edge and landed on the floor.

She wished she could return them, but knew she never would.

_As long as you're burying yourself alive, you might as well try that damn cake._

* * *

 

Since nine the next morning, Jellal watched the clock and anticipated Erza's arrival. It never seemed to move, like time had ground to a halt.

 _Tick, tick, tick,_ went that thin second hand, the sound so grating and annoying that Jellal thought if it didn't stop, he'd smash the clock's face just like he'd smashed his apartment. The only thing that saved it from its fate was him physically getting up, tearing it from its home on the wall, and stuffing it into his outerwear closet.

Silence ruled.

Except, now he contended with two disadvantages: he had no idea what fucking time it was, and, if possible, the day seemed to actually drag on _more_ without being able to watch the hours’ limp by _._

When the shadows were getting long, Ginny came in with a stack of papers and an over-full tea. She smiled sweetly, blushed, and batted her pretty eyes as she left the items on his desk. Jellal barely saw her, he was too anxious for Erza's arrival. After Ginny left again, he listened like a hawk for the downstairs door opening. As soon as he heard the dry squeal of rubber over marble, he lifted his head and searched for her fiery hair. Every time it wasn't her, the disappointment was a crushing thing. _Maybe Ultear is right, maybe I should just kill her and find someone else._ It would certainly be easier, less suffocating. Not nearly as satisfying, but…

The door swooshed open again. Jellal lifted his head up from a form littered with numbers and saw her through the glass and iron railings of the loft balcony. Erza's eyes snapped up as if she felt him looking at her, the expression on her face pleased and just slightly anguished. _Good._ He hoped she was as miserable as he was last night. _Not likely._ But one day soon she would be.

Standing, he smoothed his jacket, then his hair, and wished for a mirror or something. _Stop._

Erza clopped through the building. Ginny met her downstairs. Jellal couldn't hear what words they exchanged, but he thought maybe Ginny didn't sound particularly happy. Still, she waved Erza on, either too busy to bring her up herself or unwilling. It was just as well, Jellal didn't want to look at the clerk. He thought about meeting Erza halfway, but it was more satisfying when she came to him. With false patience, he leaned against his desk and counted the seconds until she topped the stairs. An agonizing moment later, she filled the doorway, hair gleaming in what little sunlight petered through the window, skin luminous.

Jellal discovered he wasn't as calm as he would have liked. Or remotely patient or even _smart._

 _You can't do that here._ But he was.

Before Erza could open her mouth and say a word, he crossed the room, grabbed her hand, and pulled her inside his office.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise, a little stiff, but still pliable—at least, she was until he slammed the door behind her, locked it, and pushed her against the solid barrier. "Siegrain—!"

 _One day she'll say Jellal._ He touched her cheek more gently than he wanted and laid his mouth against hers, swallowing down the rest of her words.

As soon as he kissed her, Erza pulled back. "Siegrain—we're—you're working—people will _see."_

"Can you see through doors?" Jellal asked shortly.

Without a good response, she didn't stop him from coming back for her mouth. This time, she even weaved her fingers through his hair. Impatiently, he tore open the buttons of her coat and smoothed his hands over her stomach and ribs, then inched higher, fingering the space just under her breasts. Erza's breath turned fast, with excitement, with fear. He roved higher still so he could just barely feel the gentle curves of her body. She made a small sound and slouched minutely into his touch. Jellal never gave her the satisfaction, sliding his hands around her back and holding her tight enough that it must have hurt.

Erza’s frustrated groan moved through him. _Gods._ He moved his hands down her body and rested his palms on the swell of her behind. She was so perfect. Pliable. He doubted she’d even protest now if he were to take her clothes off. She wasn’t worried about the council or the public and professional space they occupied. She wasn’t thinking about anything except how it felt when he touched her.

 _Gods. Gods._ He loved her.

The door sounded just beside Erza's ear and she yelped. The sound was muffled against Jellal's mouth; excitement moved through him. He wanted to pull her even closer, he wanted to grab up her dress and force it high, see if she wasn't wearing panties again today. He wanted to make her wrap her legs around his middle, he wanted to slide into her. He wanted her gasping and sobbing and moaning lewdly. Instead, he pulled on some thread of rationality and broke off the kiss. Erza looked at him with wide, glossy eyes. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were the pink of a spring sunrise.

Whoever waited on the other side of the door rapped again. Erza caught her breath and swallowed, throat bobbing. She looked so beautiful, uncertain and—yes, even scared—he almost ignored the door and pulled her back in. Through some miracle, he found his composure and stepped away from her. Erza tugged at her dress and her coat and smoothed her hair. It was still everywhere. Jellal didn't help her. He didn’t care if his interrupter knew exactly what they’d been doing. He moved Erza aside and tugged open the door. Ginny waited beyond, hands wrung together in front of her belly button.

"Sorry, Master Siegrain, but the cleaners wanted to know if there was anyone else in the building. I know that woman came to see you, and I didn't see you leave yet, so—" She was as red as a snapdragon.

"You can tell them we're just leaving," Jellal replied shortly.

"Yes, of course." She turned away from him and scurried down the stairs in a swirl of robes.

"You intimidate her," Erza said.

"She thinks she's in love with me," Jellal returned glibly.

"How do you know that?" Erza asked after a moment.

Jellal put a smile on his mouth and it was as casual as he hoped. “Just because my attentions are focused elsewhere doesn’t mean that I’m blind to what’s happening around me. I’d be blind if I didn’t know when I had a lady’s attention.”

Erza flushed again. Jellal changed the subject. "Let's hurry before they lock us in." Crossing the room in three long steps, he tore open the closet and grabbed his coat, then turned and led Erza out of the building, his hand squeezing her waist. She was warm and shivered just slightly. Jellal pulled her closer so he could better feel the pitter patter of her heart. _One day soon, it will be still._


	10. Chapter 10

_She looks at 'Siegrain' and sees the man she wishes I were. She looks at Siegrain and sees what she wants to see. I look at Erza and be the man she wants me to be._

_No._

_No, that’s not true._

_I…_

_I don’t know what I do. I get lost._

_I want to tell her. I want her to know that the man she kisses is the one she's been dreaming of. I want to see her pretty mouth open in shock, her beautiful eyes shine with fresh tears. I want her to hurt because I hope it'll make it better. I want to hurt her because it feels like that's the only way I'll ever be free._

_And when it comes time, I'll be sure to tell her that I didn't bring her to ruination because I had to—surely there were easier ways to bring Zeref back—but because I wanted to. I wonder if by then she'll love me too much to hate me. I wonder if she already does._

* * *

 

Outside of the council building, the sun was dropping low on the horizon, setting alight a thin layer of clouds, painting the world in pink and gold and the brightest red. The wind, which had been blowing snow about for the majority of the day, died back, so it only made Erza's cheeks cold, not chapped. Regardless of how the weather treated her skin, her body burned, all too aware of the man at her side. The feeling only intensified when he reached out and held her hand like it was something normal for them to do. She expected his palms to be soft, given the nature of his work, but they were nearly as callused as hers. Feeling that, a little sprig of tension withered. Maybe they were more alike than she knew.

"Where did you get the daggers from?" Those were the first words she'd spoken since he'd dragged her into his office and kissed her abruptly, and her voice cracked.

Siegrain peered at her through dark lashes. "Did you like them?"

Erza looked at their clasped hands, thinking it would be a safer bet than his face. It wasn't really, it just made her head cottony with want, her stomach flutter with an emotion she didn't really have a name for. "I asked you not to buy me anything."

"I know. Did you like them?" he asked again.

"They were nice but too expensive," Erza replied. Good steel like that would cost a fortune.

“Does that mean that you’ll be returning them?” She stammered; he laughed. “Keep them, Erza. Enjoy them. Every time you use them, think of me.”

“Thank you. They're nice."

"The finest steel," he agreed.

"And the cake?" She smiled. "From the finest baker?"

He laughed sheepishly. It was a sound Erza knew and loved, and yet… it wasn't. Her heart hurt. "I made that in my own kitchen."

"How did you know?"

"That it was your favorite? I saw you eating it when I came to Fairy Tail that day, remember? And I made a lucky guess. Was it good at least?"

Erza shrugged and grinned. "I imagine you're better at magic than baking."

That jarred another laugh from him, carefree and light. It dried up quickly. "Magic didn't ever come naturally to me."

That surprised Erza. "No?"

"No." He got silent and Erza wondered if she’d crossed a line. Then he elaborated. "Once, I was weak and helpless. I watched people I cared for get hurt. After that, I worked hard to make myself strong."

It was a familiar tale. Erza hedged, "…You mean when… when the Tower of Heaven was being built, and Jellal got taken away?"

Siegrain’s face pinched. "I—yes."

Erza looked up at the sky again, remembering the boy Jellal was. "Before, you asked me what he was to me."

Siegrain stopped and faced her, the look in his eye intense. “Jellal?”

“Yes. Jellal… he was my best friend in the Tower of Heaven. He… he protected me. He saved me. And yet… he also almost tore me apart." She couldn't meet Siegrain's eyes.

Siegrain’s voice dropped to a whisper. "He hurt you."

"He changed."

"Maybe he had to.”

Erza met his eyes. "Maybe. The Tower changed all of us. Believe me, when I say, I didn't want to leave him, Siegrain."

"And yet you did." Was that anger in his voice? A small thread of it he couldn’t keep hidden from her. Erza’s shame resurfaced.

"I was weak. We were children and I was scared. If it happened now… I can't say for certain, but I hope I would do things differently."

"You loved him." The anger fled with his words.

It was strange talking to Siegrain about his brother like this. "We were kids."

"Is love an emotion only adults can feel?"

“No,” she whispered. “Of course not.”

He touched her cheek with fingers that shook. “Good.”

Erza touched his hand and kept it against her cheek. His skin was warm despite the cold bite in the air. She wanted to feel more of it, of him. She wanted _this_ and felt horrible for wanting it. "Being with you, it's like I'm looking at him every time… I don't know why I do this to myself."

“Nor more than I know why I can’t stop thinking about you. But it’s right.” He kissed her then, in the center of the quiet sidewalk, slow and soft, with the winter breeze keeping them cold. Erza poured herself into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in close and he responded in kind; she thought she could do this forever.

A sharp giggle startled them apart. Erza found the source: a young urchin boy dressed in ratty clothes.

Siegrain said, "Get out of here."

"Spare some change?" he asked with a wide, gap-toothed grin. "Or I can take a picture, might fetch a nice coin, Master Siegrain of the Magic Council and..." He squinted. "Titania Erza. Think of the gossip.”

Siegrain sighed and dug through his pocket. He tossed a copper coin at the boy. "Now get out of here." The boy caught it expertly and ran away without another word.

Erza smoothed her hands over her coat. "Do you think he'll sell gossip to the tabloids?"

"Maybe. There are a lot of tabloids that would pay for something like that," he told her.

That didn't ease Erza's speeding heart. "People will talk—"

"And what will they say?" he asked. "That I kissed Fairy Tail's strongest female warrior in Magnolia's streets? So what?"

Erza clutched her elbows. _So what?_ Her heart beat fast. "You don’t care?”

“Why should I care? I gave the boy money to eat, not because I was ashamed. Now, shall we?” He motioned down the street with a huge sweep of his hand.

"Where are we going?" Erza asked.

"The observatory," he returned. "The stars are supposed to be nice tonight."

* * *

 

The observatory was a large, dome-like structure situated on the tallest hill just outside of Magnolia's town limits. Erza walked all the way there with her hand tucked into Jellal’s. There wasn't a moment of silence on the way there, but Jellal couldn't have told anyone exactly what they talked about. Nothing, everything, and all the things between. For dinner, they stopped by a cart and ordered battered shrimp; Erza insisted upon paying after all of the gifts he'd given to her. He let her.

By the time they mounted the observatory steps, the moon was high in the sky. "Have you ever been here?" Jellal asked.

"No. I've wanted to but it's usually booked up."

"It is tonight, too," he admitted.

Erza paused, foot on the final step. "Then they won't let us in."

"I'm friends with the owner… sort of."

"Sort of?"

"It belongs to Yuri of the Magic Council. He has a love of the stars," Jellal explained. "There's a room in the highest part of the dome reserved for his guests."

"Oh.” She smoothed her hands over her simplistic dress and her thoughts were clear enough.

“You look beautiful. Too beautiful for a dome.”

“But I’m not dressed very nicely,” she rebuked.

“You could be dressed in a paper bag and you’d still be the best looking woman in the room.” How disappointingly true was that? Erza smiled at his cheap compliment and suddenly, it meant so much _more._ Gods. _How_ was she such a temptress? How did she take everything he did and make it _genuine_? How did she make him _better_?

Jellal grabbed the glass door and pulled it open and ushered Erza inside, hoping that movement would allow him to erect some barriers between them again. Her lust prevented that. She looked at everything with cheerful wonder, taking in the building’s large, cavernous innards, its pale marble floors, the bright white walls. Above, the ceiling was folded back and opened to the night sky; there was a large gathering of people laying out their blankets with the ones they cared about, looking up into the unknown.

"This way." Jellal tugged her toward the metal stairwell on the opposite side of the room. It led up to a squat metal door that opened with the help of an iron key. Inside, the room was small and barren, capped with a miniature retracting roof like the one downstairs.

Finally, releasing Erza, Jellal closed and locked the door behind them, all too aware when the metal deadbolt slid into place. _Just you and her_.

"It's small," Erza observed.

He made for a cupboard inset into the wall and removed his jacket. When it was hung, he took out a woolen blanket from the top shelf. "I prefer the word _private_." He turned back around and Erza was there at his elbow with a look in her eye he had yet to see in this kind of atmosphere. Brazenness.

“That’s a nice word.” Her voice was husky. It gave him chills. She started on the buttons of her coat. Jellal watched her. She’d tucked her apprehension away _somewhere_. This Erza was the same Erza that posed for Sorcerer Weekly, this Erza was the Erza that sliced through her enemies without care. This Erza was the Erza that could tear him apart without any effort at all.

He loved this Erza.

Vicious. Debilitating love.

When the coat was undone, she leaned back against the wall and her invitation was clear. Jellal took the coat from her shoulders, wishing that his hands were steadier. He let the material fall to the floor. The dress she wore beneath was simplistic, black cotton, with a high neckline and cap sleeves. Its skirt sat high on her legs, exposing all that pale skin. He wanted to touch her, and so he did, dropping his hand to her knee and skimming unashamedly up her leg until he got to the dress's pleated material. Her skin was soft. By the time he was through, Erza was panting; his breaths matched hers.

“Put down the blanket.”

Jellal was helpless to disobey her, though it was painful to step away to complete the task. As soon as it was laid out, Erza discarded her tall boots and knelt on the soft material.

“You, too.”

Jellal took off his boots and then sat, legs out before him, and Erza came to rest in his lap and pushed him down on his back. Her hair still smelled like winter and her skin was still cool. She kissed him and his mind emptied. This was what he needed. She breathed life into him with every brush of her tongue, every bow of her body, every pull of her fingers in his hair. She moaned lowly when he arched his hips into her. There was too much material between them, her underwear, his pants. Jellal navigated her thigh to the spot where her legs met and massaged her through her underwear. She was wet, she squirmed, she held his forearm and didn’t let him take his hand away. Jellal filled the other with her breast and pinched the hardened nub at its tip. She sobbed quietly and all of the blood rushed from Jellal’s head.

It was a beautiful sound. A girl coming undone. Erza Scarlet. Unravelled.

Jellal put his mouth against her neck and sucked, purposefully leaving behind a mark. He thought she’d be mad but it seemed that’s what she needed. Her orgasm made her muscles tighten. Jellal held her tightly to his chest and committed her shudders to memory. She stopped but he didn’t, longing to bring her back to that place again. This time, he went beneath her panties. She was over-sensitive at first. It passed. She sat up straight and spread her legs and let him worship her.

It was heaven.

It was hell.

He wanted to fuck her.

_Not yet. Not yet._

Hearing her laboured whimper was worth the punishment.


	11. Chapter 11

_If forever had a name it would be Misery, Misery for the forever I've spent thinking about Erza Scarlet. When I began, I thought I wanted her lips to desiccate… but if they did, how could she say my name? When I began, I thought I wanted her heart to still, but if it did, how could it beat for me? When I began, I thought I wanted her to hurt._

_I still do._

_My head is cobwebs. My eyes are dry. My tongue is used. My lips useless._

_If I could die, I would; it would be simpler. And I would strike the match myself if it meant I could die burning in her fire._

* * *

 

The sun was sinking on the horizon when Jellal exited the council building, Erza on his mind, as ever. Her signs. Her hands. Her demands. Scarlet running through his hands.

"There you are." Ultear's voice echoed out from a crevasse in the building, obliterating his fantasy.

Jellal halted; it had been almost two days since he’d spoken to her but he felt her presence like an invisible spike between his ribs. Turning, he found her in the shadows. "Hello, Ultear."

She stepped out, dressed today in a long, blue dress that nicely complimented the colour of her skin. Her dark hair was loose, falling around her heart-shaped face softly, picked up and bounced about by a gentle breeze. "So now we're being cordial?"

Jellal clenched his fists. "I won't apologize for my actions."

"I would expect nothing less. Come here." She waved him in close.

Jellal entered the shadows with her. It was where he belonged, wasn’t it? "What is it? I'm supposed to be meeting Erza tonight, so make it quick."

Ultear's expression curdled. "I would like to think this is more important. I was speaking with Chairman Crawford this afternoon when one of the clerks came in bearing news from the navy. They told the council that they've stumbled upon a strange structure in the ocean."

Jellal's heart skipped a beat. "The Tower of Heaven."

"Yes, the Tower of Heaven. Jellal, the chairman told them to inform the king—he'll be sending his military ships soon."

Jellal quieted while he thought. Finally, he said, "The tower is completed."

"Yes," Ultear said with annoyance. "We're waiting on you."

He sighed. It was too soon—he wasn't done with Erza yet, but... "Take care of the ships and put word of Zeref's resurrection in the council's ear. If this is happening, we have to get them thinking about stopping this at any cost, we need the etherion cannon's magic energy."

Ultear smiled slowly and stepped in close to Jellal, wrapping her arms around his throat and standing on tiptoe. Jellal didn't push her back, not yet. "Soon Lord Zeref will walk among us," Ultear said and met his lips in a slow kiss.

A sharp gasp told Jellal that they weren't alone. Breaking away, he turned and met Ginny's gaze. The girl looked whiter than a ghost. She heard everything. Jellal huffed and scrubbed his hand over his jaw, scratching the stubble there. "What are you doing out here, Ginny?"

"I—I um... I just came to give you this." She produced his scarf from the pocket of her form-fitting coat. "You dropped it, Sir."

He took it from her hands and wrapped it around his throat methodically, calmly. "Thank you."

"That was all. Goodnight!" Ginny turned and tried to make her escape.

Jellal used his magic to take him in front of her. She hit his chest, unable to stop in time; meteor was too fast for that. He grabbed her shoulders and held her steady. "Not so fast."

Ginny squealed and recoiled. "Please, I didn't hear anything."

Jellal hauled her back so she was flat against his body. She quivered. "Really? If you heard nothing, then why are you running away?" Killing magic gathered in his hand.

"Please, Master Siegrain," she begged. "I—I can be quiet. I won't tell anyone."

Jellal paused, but Ultear didn't. From her coat, she produced a gleaming knife and drove it mercilessly into Ginny's ribs. The girl flinched and gasped in pain and vainly clutched Jellal's coat while he watched the life fade from her eyes. Slowly, she went limp and sagged. He held her tightly until her lungs stopped heaving, trying for air instead of blood.

"She was a good clerk."

"Good or not, I always knew that girl was going to be trouble." Ultear snorted and pulled out her orb. Magic was tugged from its center, rotting the ground at Jellal's feet. He stepped back just enough not to be swallowed into the pit. When it opened, he threw Ginny unceremoniously inside and watched her flop lifelessly to the ground below the road level. There was a little bit of blood leaking from her mouth. Then Ultear closed the wounded concrete and blocked her from view. "I suppose we're lucky we caught her, she could have wrecked everything."

Jellal scrubbed his palms against his jacket, but he still felt the way Ginny's lungs fluttered while she died. "I suppose."

"And this is why we should be moving quickly. I'll make sure Councillor Crawford knows that 'Jellal' plans on resurrecting Master Zeref."

"I'll be there to suggest an etherion blast," Jellal said after a moment. Which meant this was his last night with Erza. He chewed on his cheek, deciding how he wanted to spend it: as a pretender? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. _I can't. I have to tell her._

_What if she hates me?_

She would.

There was no escaping that.

It didn't change things, though.

* * *

 

Erza brushed her fingers through the end of her hair as she walked, a song on her lips. This evening she'd traded her armour for a dark purple dress that fell just above her knees. At the waist was a lilac bow and around the neckline were delicate frills. It was girlier than anything she'd ever worn before and bought specifically for this evening. She'd even gone to the lingerie store as Mira suggested, and purchased undergarments that made her both flush with embarrassment and radiant with excitement.

Earlier that day, the sun had been hot. Most of the snow had melted so the sidewalks were barren, save for the occasional rivulet of water as it trickled towards the storm drains. Exposed, the grass was yellow and grey and covered with bits of garbage: tinfoil, plastic, cigarette butts, a few beer bottles. Soon Magnolia's city workers would come and pick up the winter's refuse, but for now, the rich part of the city looked incredibly party-worn.

Rounding the corner, she saw Siegrain out front of the Magic Council building as he promised, leaned back against the lifeless gardens, hands tucked into his pockets. A smile pulled at his mouth as soon as he saw her.

Unconsciously, Erza walked faster, last night's escapades trilling through her mind, making her heart beat frantically, making her skin hot, making her stomach whirl. His hands. His _hands._ She loved them.

Siegrain didn’t move from his spot until she was upon him; then he grabbed the lapels of her open coat and pull her in close. Erza's breath caught. Immediately, she tipped her face up to be kissed but was forced to wait while Siegrain looked her over, dark eyes clinging to her body. There was an awed look in his eye. Releasing her coat, his fingers spider-walked inside the fabric and found her hips. Erza breathed out slowly while he laid his palms flat against her body and skimmed the chiffon material of her dress, plucking first at the band of her skimpy underwear, then moving up to linger at her dipping waist.

"You look beautiful." His voice was silk snagging on splinters, gentled by his kiss. While it was happening she wondered if she should let herself be kissed like this outside of the council building, but just as soon as the thought formed, it was obliterated by his insistent tongue. She opened her mouth for him and reveled.

He came back slowly and asked, "How do I ever let you go?"

Erza smiled. "We both have to work." Never mind that she hadn't taken a job since she'd started seeing him. She told herself that was because there wasn't anything good kicking around, not because she wanted to stay in Magnolia for as long as she could and soak up the attentions of a man she shouldn't be seeing.

“I suppose.” He pushed her loose bangs back from her eyes. "We're still going to have dinner, but I have to stop by my place first."

"Your place?" Erza repeated with a quirk of her mouth. “Where you’ll try to seduce me, Master Siegrain?”

“I though you already seduced? Should I try harder?”

Erza could hardly believe herself as she said, “Perhaps you could remind me?”

With a nice, slow smile he held out his arm for her to take. "It would be my pleasure."

* * *

 

It occurred to Jellal that taking Erza to his apartment was risky, but he was cocky and felt untouchable. Mounting the stairs with her hand in his, he relished the way her fingers kept flexing as she mentally scrolled through all the scenarios that might await her as soon as the door closed.

He planned on going through them all.

At his door, his hand was steady holding his keys, though his brow was slicked with sweat. For so many years he'd dreamed of this exact moment and yet he wasn't sure which part he was more excited for: seeing Erza entirely bare and doing what he wanted to her, or revealing his identity. Living under the guise of Siegrain was so frustratingly limited.

All of that is going to stop soon.

The door opened and the smell of parchment greeted them. Jellal watched Erza take in his abode. Bookshelves, a love seat and a small, square coffee table sat in the center of the room. On top of the table was a bowl of shiny red apples. The back wall was entirely windows, and beyond them was a long balcony; the drapes were open, revealing Magnolia's cityscape. In front of the windows was a large queen-sized bed adorned with a black and blue duvet.

Erza closed the door.

Then she locked it.

Jellal teased, "Should I be worried that you're locking me in, Titania?”

Confident again, Erza came to him, the chunky ankle high heeled boots she wore snapping over his wooden floor with authority. "I thought maybe that's what you wanted."

"I feel obligated to tell you that our dinner reservation is for quarter to eight." He made a play at checking his watch.

"That's hours away," Erza said, startled out of her coyness. "What were you planning on doing in the meantime?"

Jellal grinned wolfishly. “I thought you liked the attention?”

She settled back into the role of seductress fluidly. “By all means. Make use of your time.”

Jellal stepped into her and worked her coat from her shoulders. Erza was pliant and accommodating, confident. Jellal threw her coat carelessly on his new coffee table. It half caught, then fell to the floor in a heap. "I was hoping that you'd say that "

Erza grabbed his coat and worked the toggle clasps, undoing them while Jellal found the hickey he’d left on her neck last night. He sucked hard, deepening the bruise. Erza whimpered; it must have hurt. She didn’t stop him. A little dissatisfied, Jellal moved on, kissing down her neck, tongue caressing her skin now and again while he found the back of her dress and undid the clasp. The zipper came down, then the dress slid off her shoulders to reveal the strap of her black, lacy bra. The colour was so, so beautiful on her skin. The contrast. Jellal lived for it. He moved south over her collarbone to the tops of her breasts, tongue sneaking into the cup of her bra. Her nipples were hard, raised nubs that he teased. Erza pulled at his coat with renewed effort until it slid from his shoulders and dropped to the floor.

Unable to help himself, Jellal bit the top of her breast; the girl's breath died in her lungs. Her hands found his hair and dragged him up to her mouth again. He was all too happy to kiss her; she tasted sweet, she tasted like lip gloss, but most importantly, she tasted like Erza.

"Gods..." he mumbled against her mouth. _I love you_. "I've waited so long for this, Erza." _I hate you._

"A night?" she teased between kisses.

Jellal's stomach flopped. "Years." He bit her lip.

Erza laughed off his admission while he kissed across her jaw to her ear and nibbled on the lobe. "I think you're being dramatic."

Jellal swallowed a frustrated groan and grabbed her breast roughly, consequentially pushing her against the wall. Knowing that she was trapped there under his body weight was exhilarating. Between his legs was so hard it was uncomfortable. "All this time, you're all I've thought about. I can't stop." _Erza Scarlet._

_Erza_

_Scarlet._

_And her_

"Your scarlet hair." He fisted one hand in her hair, tugging at the single braid that rested over her shoulder, and rocked his hips against hers so she could feel how he strained against his pants. "Erza... After you left... I didn't think I would see you again."

A long beat of silence passed in which Erza was immobile while he kissed her neck. Finally, she said in a deadpan voice, "I don't know if you're trying to be funny, but stop."

He pulled back and looked at her with serious eyes. "It’s no joke. I can’t pretend anymore." Coming back, he kissed her lips; her mouth was sedentary. With shaking hands, he grabbed her dress and pulled it down further to her belly button, then knelt and kissed the sensitive skin at her waist.

"Jellal?" Erza said his name; it didn’t come out as sweetly as he imagined, it got stuck in her throat. He loved the sound of it no less.

"Yes."

_Yes. Yes._

The illusion had been shattered.


	12. Chapter 12

_What does_ prisoner _mean?_

_Trapped._

_Helpless._

_I’ve spent a lifetime as such. In my dreams. In my memories. I am prisoner to myself. I am prisoner to her. I am bound, foolishly. For only fools are so bound._

_I will not panic._

_She will crack._

* * *

 

Erza, dress crumpled around her waist, hair askew at odd angles, cheeks pinked first with excitement, then with anger and an emotion that she knew for certain was terror-laced-love, stood stationary, firmly stapled in place while she looked at the boy-turned-man she had loved for all of her life. Numbly, she reached up and touched her throbbing lips, then her aching neck; the hickey burned—maybe it was in her head.

Time was inconsequential for as long as she was immobile. She couldn't stay that way forever, though. Eventually, thoughts returned to her and she realized that she had to do something other than just stare at him.

“How _dare_ you?” And, seemingly more importantly, "Is it really you?" Her dark eyes bore into his skin.

"What does your heart tell you?"

Erza squeezed the hem of her dress so hard her knuckles turned white. "My heart?” Her heart. Her heart. There were things that didn’t seem to add up with Siegrain. Times when he was just a little too much like Jellal. She couldn’t ignore the similarities anymore. _It’s true._ Gods. She was _furious._ “It tells me that you've been lying to me for weeks. _How could you_?" Her voice shook with barely contained rage on the last.

He said simply, "I had to see you."

"So you impersonated a council member?" Erza raged. "You hired me to get back your fucking pin and then—then you played me for a fool? That's excessive, isn't it? Does this bring you pleasure or something, knowing that you're tormenting me?"

“I'm sorry; my methods were underhanded, but..." _Real_ shame kissed his words, confusing her.

Erza grabbed his shirt, bringing them nose-to-nose. "Underhanded? I spent hours lying awake wondering how I could—" She trailed off but regrouped. "How I could kiss Siegrain when every time I looked at him all I thought about was you! I was _guilty_ , Jellal."

He hung on her every word and spilled, "I love you, Erza,” as he might spill blood. Painfully. Carefully.

Erza could do nothing for several long seconds, struck immobile.

"I know it was wrong and it must have been hard, but it was hard for me too. You're all I've thought about. I should never have—"

" _Don't_." The word was strained.

"Don't tell you how I feel?"

"No—don't lie!" she snapped.

Jellal touched her without regard, smoothing her hair back from her face as he had before. It was the same hands as before only now the touch seemed so… _indecent._ He gave to her beautiful words. "I wouldn't lie about that. You've been on my mind every day since you left. I haven't ever stopped thinking about you, regretting the way we parted ways. I love you, Erza.”

“Stop.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You can shut your mouth and _stop_ talking, and—” She pushed his hands aside. “You can stop touching me, too.”

He didn’t care about her threats as someone else might. “You knew my feelings were genuine when you thought I was Siegrain, why is this different?"

She tripped up, falling quiet for a moment. _Don't believe him._ "Why are you always trying to hurt me? What did I ever do?"

"You left me!" he shot back, the words filled with so much rage that she flinched. "You fucking left me, Erza. I needed you and you left me as soon as things got tough."

 _It’s true_ , a cruel voice whispered. Erza didn’t bow to it, though her foundation was weakened. She got mean. "You told me to leave! You killed people, Jellal, imprisoned children—our friends—and then you just kept on making that goddamn tower. So don't try to place the blame on me."

His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I had to keep building it."

Erza searched his eyes. "You didn’t have to, you _wanted_ to. There is a difference."

"No, no, no, Erza." He met her gaze steadily and, Gods help them all, he was _sincere_. "I wasn't myself. I was possessed, please believe me."

"You think that's going to work, Jellal? Telling me a line like that?" _But you know the change that befell him that day was unnatural._ She didn’t know _why_ she was working against herself.

"Just listen. They locked me away in that room. I was so helpless the only thing I could do was pray, Erza. I prayed that you would be okay, I prayed for everyone's freedom. There was no god that answered me though, it was Zeref." Jellal’s voice was calm. Reasonable. He’d thought this speech through... "He wasn't benevolent or kind, but he gave me the means to free everyone.”

“He was _evil_. You knew that even then.”

Jellal didn’t apologize. “The slavers were going to kill you, so what other choice did I have but to accept his help?"

Clearly, she could remember all the blood as Jellal cut through the men. "If it’s true, the only thing Zeref gave you was the means to slaughter."

His voice got hard. “There are a lot of things I need to apologize for but that won't be one of them. Those men were going to kill you. How could I do anything but what I did?"

Part of her hated that he used her as justification for murder, part of her was almost... glad that he was willing to go so far for her. _That's twisted_. But so was love.

"And as for afterward, when the Tower was mine… I never made our friends work harder than they could, Erza. I was good to them. I gave them food and shelter. I made them happy."

"I don't believe you." She tried to wear her rage like a shroud. It was turning threadbare.

"You can ask them yourself—I set them all free."

Erza looked for the lies and could see none. Her eyes filled with tears and spilled over. She wiped them away before Jellal could; he was going to; she saw it on his face. She cleared her throat. “Truly? Everyone is free?”

“I swear it.”

"It's done then, the Tower of Heaven? You completed it?"

Jellal turned his gaze to the ground. "No. It remains incomplete.”

“Why?”

“Zeref—he left me." His voice hitched in all the right places.

“ _Why_?” Erza asked again.

“I don’t _know_ ,” Jellal said shortly. He drew in breath and said more calmly, “I wasn’t worthy.”

There was still the presence of something manic in him, some hinge that squeaked every time he said Zeref’s name. Erza wanted to hear more. “Tell me about it.”

Jellal hesitated. "At first when he abandoned me, I felt alone, confused and angry. It took days, but eventually, some of my old self started returning and I knew then what I had been doing was wrong. It was then I sent everyone away.”

“And how did you end up here? In the council, no less?”

He looked away from her. “The things I’ve done haunt me. Joining the council—I did it to try to do some good, to atone for my sins. Then they stationed me here in Fiore and I saw you. My pin being stolen was a happy coincidence. After I hired you and you completed the job, I was going to stay away. I should have. But I couldn't. You were all I could think about. I was going mad without you. I wanted to fix things, Erza, and this was the only way I knew how."

He had pretty words. _Don't waver_. "You're polluted."

"No longer. I am myself," Jellal insisted. "Please believe me."

Erza tried to be rational. "Why would Zeref's spirit possess you and then just leave?" It didn't make sense, though she wanted it to.

Jellal blinked at her morosely. "I spent a lot of time asking myself that, feeling useless, feeling worthless. I lived for Zeref for so long, gave up so much… and then just to have him leave? I felt broken. I still don't have an answer, but you called me back from my darkest hour, Erza.”

Such pretty, pretty words.

He wasn’t done with them yet. "Help me redeem myself. I want to, but I—I'm afraid I can't do it alone."

More tears plagued Erza. "How can I believe you? All you've done is lie."

"Because I love you.”

She shook her head. “Please.” Why did that could out so pleadingly?

"I do, Erza, I love you."

Just like she loved him. It couldn’t be helped. Erza watched him lean forward. She felt his mouth on hers. She didn’t push him away; couldn’t. She didn’t kiss him back, either, though, and considered that good enough. He pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her more thoroughly. _I'm drowning,_ Erza thought. Dying never felt so sweet. A tiny, muffled moan slipped from her chest without her permission.

Jellal whispered, "Will you help me be better?"

Even if she knew he played at her weaknesses, she wouldn't have done a thing to change it. "It's what you truly want?"

“Yes.”

"Then... Yes."

He busied her mouth again. The kiss was bitter-sweet now that she knew it was truly him. Every touch felt new again. Erza put all of her doubts away in a box and focused on his mouth moving from her mouth to her neck, his teeth grazing in a bite. Even as she tipped her head to offer him more skin she said, "I don't think this—it's not a good idea."

"No," Jellal agreed against her throat. "It's not really, is it?"

She squeezed his shoulders by way of answer.

His mouth slowed. "Pull away, if you want. I won’t stop you." Then he waited for her patiently, fingers slowly grazing the inside of her thigh.

"Do you—promise—" Erza shivered and found her train of thought again. "I can trust you?"

"You're safe.”

His hands were at it again, making her head empty. Erza spoke as much to remind herself as him. "I still don't forgive you."

"I would expect nothing less." He rubbed his thumb over her center and kissed her slowly. Erza did everything in her power to keep it that way. He moved his hips into hers and she forgot.

“Black.”

“Mm?”

“Like midnight,” Jellal told her. He gathered the strap of her bra in his teeth and she understood. “And red. Like sunsets.”

Pretty, pretty words. Erza abandoned her hesitancy and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I've missed you."

"We won’t leave each other again.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

_Many sins belong to me. Some I regret, some keep me sustained when it seems I’ve lost my way, but this sin is the most dangerous of all… it’s the one that can break me down. Or build me up._

_I love Erza Scarlet too much. Enough to lie. Enough to_  steal _her time away._

_Enough to want to make this moment last forever._

_My only fear is that I will be the man that has everything when I go to Zeref, and still I will feel hollow._

* * *

 

Jellal wished his hands were steadier as he pulled Erza away from the wall and tugged her dress low but his body was a traitor. He’d waited for this for too long. Everything was coming together and Erza.

Erza.

The dress came over the catch of her hips and fell to the ground and her pale skin was only interrupted by scraps of black.

Blood and 

Midnight and 

Ivory.

Jellal hadn’t ever thought himself a stupid man, but he certainly felt that way, looking at the woman he’d only ever dreamed about.

She was able to move when he was paralyzed, her hand cupping him through his pants and massaging. He closed his eyes and returned her touch, getting between her underwear and her behind and squeezing. Her mouth brushed his ear; her voice was fired coals. “Should we go to the bed?”

He leaned away from her in answer and took her by the hip, leading her to the bed. Her high heels clunked on the floor. She tried to take them off at the mattresses edge; Jellal stopped her.  “Leave them.”

“And the drapes? Should I leave them, too?”

They were open to the world. Jellal didn’t care. “Yes.”

“Someone might see.”

He pulled her back so her back was to his chest and grabbed her still covered breasts with both hands. “So?”

“So…”

He kissed her neck; some of her scarlet hair clung to his lips; he didn’t bother moving it. “You’re so beautiful.”

She wriggled out of his grasp and forced him to sit on the bed. Her fingers pressed beneath his chin and lifted his face up. She searched his eyes. “I don’t think anyone has ever loved me like this.”

Like parched soil loves the rain, except it’s too dry to accept it. Like the terminal love the idea of death, scared straight, yet still needing it. “They never could.”

Was she scared of it like Jellal was? Maybe.

She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra’s hooks. The lacy garment slid from her shoulders and her breasts were bare. Medallion-sized nipples hard, slightly up-curved. She dropped the lingerie to the bed and started working on the thong, grabbing the straps and pulling them down slowly. Jellal leaned back on his elbows and watched while he unclasped the buttons of his shirt.

Erza stepped out of the underwear. When she straightened, she gathered her hair over her shoulder, baring herself for him to see. Every movement she made was lithe. Calculated. How could she be so perfect? How could she be here, for _him_? _What did I do to deserve this_? It was like Lord Zeref was rewarding him already. He almost dissolved into lunatic laughter. Self-mocking. Terrified. Altogether out of control.

Erza cradled his face and grounded him, her fingers tracing his tattoo from his eye to his cheek. For all the violence he knew her to be capable of, she was gentle. A twang of guilt almost crippled him; how could he just throw her away? Instead of pushing the guilt aside, he welcomed it. She wouldn't suffer alone.

Erza brushed her lips across his mouth while she found the lapel of his open shirt and eased the material from his shoulders. There she stalled to trace the whip scars he’d acquired at the Tower of Heaven. Learning them anew.

“Do they still hurt?”

“Sometimes.” Jellal pulled her hands away, turning them up so he could kiss either one of her wrists. “Do yours?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The pain?”

“The tower.”

Erza pushed him back so he was lying flat on the bed. “Everything I missed is right here.”

Jellal grabbed her hand and pulled her on the bed beside him. Her heels rubbed together, clicking gently. When she was situated, he leaned overtop of her and dragged his fingers up the side of her body, starting way down low at her ankles and stopping at the junction between her legs. Erza opened for him. She was wet and warm. While he slowly massaged her, she worked her hands through her hair, eyes heavy-lidded.

“Are you nervous?” _Please say yes._ He wasn’t sure if it was because he longed for control, or if it was because he wouldn’t feel so badly about the way his hands shook.

“Not anymore,” Erza said in a low voice. Jellal clenched his jaw and determined to change that. Dropping his head to her breast, he flicked his tongue across one rosy peak while he inserted his fingers into her body. Erza gasped and curved into him like he’d done so much more. He tried to commit the sound to memory; he’d take it with him when he died.

Erza unthreaded her fingers from her own hair and tangled them in his. She pulled when he angled his fingers just right. His name dropped from her lips, barely a whisper. Encouraged, Jellal nibbled her breast and moved his fingers faster. Like he hoped, she gasped and swore and sobbed; her grip tightened and so did her body. He released her breast with a wet pop and found her mouth, wanting to taste the moment she orgasmed. Erza was easy; so generous and indulgent. Enthusiastic and impatient.

He found her clit with his thumb while still keeping his fingers inserted and rubbed the swollen area. That was all it took. Erza, cheeks pink, breasts heaving with short, shallow gasps, arched like a bow and cried out, the sound muffled against Jellal’s tongue. He drank it back, a parched man in the desert sun, and bit her lip hard enough that it must have really hurt. Aside from a weak gasp, Erza didn’t say a word. That was partially why he loved her; no pain ever outweighed her pleasure. He was pleased to see it was a mantra she’d kept up behind closed doors as well.

She took a second for the comedown before wriggling from Jellal’s grasp and getting to her knees. Jellal stretched out, ready for her touch. Her fingers shook when she grabbed his pants and started undoing them and he knew she hadn’t been entirely truthful—she was at least a little bit nervous. That made him feel better.

Pants undone, Erza flicked her eyes up and met his gaze while she pulled him out and leaned down. She licked him and he exhaled a warbling breath. She took the tip into her mouth and he moaned. She sucked, moving up and down slowly and he tipped his head back and swore. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her for long, he needed to see. Her lips looked redder than ever, her hair ablaze by the overhead lights. For sure if anyone were looking up from the streets they’d see everything. The thought only turned him on more.

Unable to help himself, Jellal grabbed her roughly by the hair and pulled her away. Erza hissed but didn’t bat him off. Quite the contrary—she moved to where he wanted her to go, spreading her legs wide and positioning herself over top of him. She was warm and wet rubbing over his body. Lifting his hips a few inches, he just barely penetrated her; Erza did the rest, lowering herself down and totally enveloping him.

“Fuck.” Fuck. Fuck. “ _Fuck.”_ She felt amazing. Better than amazing.

Erza looked at him through thick lashes, a small, sultry smile on her lips, like she knew this was the sweetest kind of torment and she was happy to administer it, and started rocking her hips. She was fucking evil. His hand was around her throat before he could think better of it. The skin there was smooth, the tendon and muscles, her windpipe… they all felt so delicate. All it would take…

He squeezed, but not as hard as he could have. Erza cried out in pleasure, not at all panicked. She trusted him not to hurt her. She’d made so many mistakes since that cold wintery day out front of the Magic Council building, but this was the one that would cost her everything.

Jellal wasn’t sure how he felt about that. His fingers loosened. He lifted his hand until he was no longer choking her but half cupping her cheek. Erza turned into his touch and licked the pad of his thumb. Then she took it into her mouth and sucked while she rocked her hips. Jellal’s head swam until she released him and he could take his hand away. He traded her mouth for her breasts, first just cupping her loosely and watching them bounce, then, when her breathing turned erratic and he knew she was going to make herself come, he pinched and plucked.

“Gods…” Her whole body shivered. Jellal angled his hips so he was hitting her _just right_. She moved faster, rising and falling almost erratically, determined to make herself feel good. It was too much.

“Holy fuck—”

Erza bent and kissed him as he came. When he finished, she got off of him but didn’t go far, lying down by his side. He put his fingers in her hair and rested his cheek against the top of her head. Her pounding heart was gradually slowing. He listened to it and let his thoughts overload and tangle.

Most of the things that moved through his head were abstract; presenting themselves in colours. Red. That was Erza, always. Inky black… that was Zeref. And blue, for Ultear. Sunset orange for the Tower of Heaven and everything that was in his grasp. All he had to do was take it…

Carefully, he pushed the bangs back from Erza’s forehead.

“Hmm… We missed dinner,” Erza said.

A long, long time ago. “I know.”

Sensing his distraction, Erza lifted her head from his chest and looked up his body. “What are you thinking about?”

Jellal grunted. “Colours.”

“Colours?”

“Scarlet. Like blood. Black. Like midnight.” The two were so hopelessly intertwined in Jellal’s head. Erza and Zeref. He would give anything…

“What does that mean?”

“That I always want to be with you, Erza,” Jellal said after a moment. “That…” He tilted his head and peered at her. “That its time to go home.”

“Home?”

She looked so sweet. So confused. So innocent. _Is that how she’ll look, too, when you give her to the Tower of Heaven?_ Or would she look betrayed? _It doesn’t matter. She betrayed you_. _You have to…_ Even though he loved her. _Because_ he loved her.

_You’re broken._

So was love.

Feeling more nervous than he ever had before, Jellal pressed his palm against Erza’s cheek and memorized her face while it was still free and clear of betrayal. “I love you.”

Erza’s smile softened. “Jellal… I—”

He didn’t want to hear her say it. Gathering the magic was hard; not only was he loose and relaxed, part of him didn’t really want to. Part of him thought that they could really do _this_. The failed dates that ended up in bed (with less prior knocking out, and tears, of course), the ‘ _I love you’s_ ’ that would eventually be untainted by hurt…

_Zeref is waiting…_

He forced enough magic through Erza’s body to render her completely unconscious. Her eyes went wide and shocked.

Then they dulled and saw nothing.


	14. Chapter 14

_Everything is falling apart. Including me. Twice, carrying Erza from my apartment I was stopped by concerned pedestrians. Twice, I told them she was too drunk. The lie came out easy and was embellished by the dress I put sloppily on her body. Now I just look like a self-entitled council member that gets his women drunk before he enjoys them. That’s fine. My reputation can suffer. I’m only sad about Erza’s dress, its zipper broken because my fingers shook too badly. Despite that, I am a good liar. I don’t know whether to be proud of that or not. Erza believed me. I almost wish what I told her was true. When she looked at me like I could be redeemed… I believed her. Not only that, I_ wanted _to believe her. But I know that Zeref needs me. Soon, Erza will know too. Soon, she’ll see that this is the way things are meant to be._

_The carriage I have at my disposal took Erza and me to the docks without question. The driver was a good man, one that believed in the government and the Magic Council. I killed him anyway. It truly does get easier with experience._

_From there, I cradled Erza to my chest and climbed aboard the small sailboat I dubbed_ Quonteronk _. Tying her up was hard. It wasn’t something that I wanted to do. Laying limp against me, she looked so small and helpless… not_ Titania _, queen of the fairies, but the scared girl I had called_ Scarlet _so long ago. If I could tear out my heart, I would. I’m sorry, Erza. I’m sorry. Can we go back?_

_No._

_This is a one-way track. I just hope that when I hold her tight and tell her that I love her, she believes me. Otherwise…_

_Otherwise what? I can’t stop. Not for anything. No. I will use my projection, I will put on my best face and I will tell my best lies because that’s what liars do. I will tell the council what they need to hear. Then I will hold Erza close and wait for the end._

_We can walk into the night together._

* * *

 

Erza came awake a bit at a time, the sound of sniffling bringing her into the conscious world. Blinking her eyes, she looked into a bright, bright room. There was a splotch of black for her to focus on. Jellal knelt before her, his hands limp at his sides. He just stared. His cheeks were wet, his eyes red. Erza’s heart drummed along at a good clip.

“Jellal?”

He refocused, his head tipped back so he could meet her eyes. “Erza…” He said her name like it actually caused him physical pain.

Erza swallowed; her mouth was dry. Her arms ached. Tilting her head, she saw that her wrists were tied firmly together, her arms wrenched over her head, the rope used to tie them looped around a metal hook. Being so restricted caused her physical panic. “Jellal, what’s happening?”

He rubbed the back of his hands over his cheeks like a child and stood so he was face to face with her. His nose was red and his eyes puffy. “I’m sorry.”

Erza’s lungs felt too small. “Sorry? Sorry for what? What have you done?”

“I brought you home.”

Erza blinked at him for too long. “Home?”

He nodded vigorously, looking half-excited and half-terrified. That’s what scared Erza the most. That was the look of a zealot. Feeling hardly brave enough, Erza looked over his shoulder at the room she was in. It was wide and open to the stars, illuminated by the light of the bone-white moon. _It can’t be_. She imagined the tower without all of the floorings, as it was the last time she’d seen it, barren exposed metal dotted with the blood of slaves.

Things started tumbling in place. “I thought you said you didn’t complete it?”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

Her heart sank. “You’re not better, are you?”

“I was never broken.” He said it so vehemently, she almost believed him. “Soon, Zeref will be resurrected and we’ll all be free.”

Erza pulled at her magic then, trying to don some armour—anything to make this stop. She couldn’t. The rope used to tie her up was nullifying. The first helpless tear leaked out of her eye. “You need help. This isn’t right, Jellal. Untie me, please.”

He actually hesitated. “Don’t you want to be with me, Erza?”

More tears came. “You know I do. More than anything. I love you, I always have.” It was terrifying how much she meant those words. “But this… it’s not right. Untie me. I can’t… This place—”

“It haunts your dreams still.”

“Yes.” Exactly. “Jellal, please.”

“I can’t, Erza. I’m sorry.” How many times could he apologize? It wasn’t enough.

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

He thrust his hands through his hair and pulled it in frustration. “I _can’t_. Since you left, I have waited _every day_ for this moment, Erza. Every. Day. Do you know what that’s like?” He staggered to his feet and leaned in close. His eyes were brimming with tears again. “I wanted to see you so badly.”

Erza swallowed. “I’m here now. You don’t need to tie me up to get me to stay. Just come away from the tower. I won’t leave you. We can get you help and—”

“I don’t _need_ help!” Erza flinched, all at once doubly scared even after Jellal composed himself and rested his forehead against hers. He cupped between his palms. “I’m sorry.”

Erza wanted to recoil, but not only did she not have anywhere to go, she just couldn’t. She couldn’t explain it, either. She took a short breath. “If you were truly sorry, you’d release me.”

“I _can’t._ ” He sounded like he _actually_ believed that.

“Why are you doing this, Jellal?”

“Because I love you.”

She laughed humorlessly. “No. If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have me tied up.” The fear was retreating and in its place, the anger was coming on strong.

“Don’t tell me what I feel,” Jellal returned. “You _left_ me here, Erza. I needed you and—”

“Not this again,” she snapped. “You’ve already told me your lies. You could have left the Tower of Heaven all those years ago. I _wanted_ you to come. I _begged_ you.”

He smacked the wall beside her head so hard that the resounding clap left her both dazed and momentarily deaf. “I _couldn’t._ I _still can’t_. Zeref has hold of me and he _won’t let go_ until he is revived!”

When Erza recovered, she said, “When will you stop lying? Has _anything_ you’ve told me been true? Where are the children you enslaved here?” She raised her voice. “Hello!” It echoed off the smooth white walls and was lost to the midnight sky.

“It’s just us here. Ultear said she’d be along shortly,” Jellal said. “I wasn’t lying when I said I sent them all away, nor was I lying about Zeref.”

Erza believed him. She started to cry again, unable to help herself. “ _Please,_ Jellal.”

“ _Stop asking_.” He was clutching his head again, shaking it back and forth looking mad. “I have to bring him back. I _have_ to. It’s the only thing I’ve lived for. When you went away, Zeref led me through the darkness. He was there for me. I can’t turn my back on him.”

It sounded very much to Erza like he was trying to convince himself. She sought to dig the knife in further. “Zeref is _dead_. He’s been dead for _centuries._ The only thing left of him is his poison magic that he uses to manipulate weak minded people like you.”

He took in a breath. Two. And relaxed. “I know you’re scared and you don’t really mean that.” He brushed her hair back from her face so, so gently and planted a kiss on the corner of her lips. Erza remained frozen. He broke away and rested his forehead back against hers. “but know that I love you too much to let you go alone—we’ll do it together, Erza.”

Erza thought nothing could pull her from that stupor. “Do what together?”

Jellal spilled, “Zeref needs a sacrifice. A mage of equal power to a wizard saint. I chose you.”

 _Sacrifice. Sacrifice._ The word whipped around her head as she assessed his meaning. When she finally could speak, her voice was whisper quiet. “You’re going to sacrifice me?”

“I have to. But we’ll be together.”

The tears came faster. “I don’t want to be together like this.” How did this man have the power to unravel her so? She felt like she was breaking apart. “Jellal… _Please._ If I ever meant anything to you, you’d let me go.”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t do anything to stop this, it’s already set in motion.”

It just kept getting worse. “What do you mean?”

He donned his zeal again. “In ten minute’s time, the Magic Council is going to fire an Etherion blast at this tower that will activate the lacrima inside. Of course, they don’t know that. They think they’re going to destroy the tower with that shot. Afterwards, you’ll be taken into the tower’s core. When you’re dead and it’s done remoulding your body, Zeref will be resurrected.”

Erza was absolutely stationary for two whole breaths, then she started to writhe, fighting to get off the hook. Jellal grabbed her around the waist and pinned her against the wall with his body. “Shh. Don’t fight, Erza.”

“Let go of me!” She tried to knee him but there wasn’t any space between them.

He tucked his face into her neck and breathed deeply. “I can’t.”

The tears felt like they’d never stop. “I don’t want to die, Jellal, please. Let me go. Let me go and _come with me_. If the council really has their Etherion cannon pointed this way, we’ll _both_ be lost.” Erza leaned back to see Jellal better. So close, she could make out every detail of his face, right down to the straight lines used to make his tattoo. He looked confused. Her heart hurt. “I swear, I’ll take care of you, Jellal. I _promise_. We’ll fix this. Whatever is wrong with you—”

“ _Nothing_ is wrong with me.” He sounded less sure than the first time he’d stated such. “You’re the one that has the problem. Milianna, Wallie, Simon—they all saw my vision, they all wanted _freedom_. _Why_ can’t you see that and want it too?”

“They never knew what it was to be truly free,” Erza replied. “They went from one tyrannical ruler to the next.”

“No.” Jellal shook his head so hard that his hair whipped in front of his eyes. “I took care of them. I made sure they had a purpose. I made sure that they were never left wanting. I said I was going to be a kinder ruler than the last and I _kept_ my promise.”

“You promised me that I could trust you, too, but here we are.”

He looked stricken. “Erza, understand—”

She stopped listening to him because the air felt suddenly charged. The Etherion was coming. Desperate, she planted her foot against the wall at her back and kicked off. In seconds she lifted herself up and unhooked her wrists. Dropping to the ground was ungraceful, her high heels were still very much in place and nearly deposited her on her rump. Jellal was there to catch her. His arms were shackles and the Tower of Heaven was to be her prison.

 


	15. Chapter 15

_Fear._

_It finds us._

_Fear._

_It binds us._

_Fear._

_It makes us take a stand._

_Fear._

_It controls us._

_Fear._

_It moulds us._

_Fear._

_It makes us less than man._

* * *

 

Erza’s hands fisted in Jellal’s shirt and kept him close. “Jellal. The Etherion… We’re both going to die.”

He shook his head, looking down into eyes as wide as planets, into cheeks fevered. He sought to comfort her. “I promise this won't be the thing to kill us. Don't be afraid. The tower will take all of the Etherion’s magic energy. Once it’s harnessed, Ultear and I are going to use it to bring back Lord Zeref.” Never mind that Ultear was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t think of that. Not now. “That is where your sacrifice will come into play. Like I said… I’ll do the honours myself and follow after, that way we can always be together."

“Listen to yourself! This is _crazy._ It won’t work,” Erza rebuked. “Even if you could bring back the dead, nothing could ever hold so much energy.”

Light fell from the sky, bright, bright white. As soon as Erza saw it, some of the fight fled her and she slumped against Jellal’s chest, weak. He held her as he always would. “The Tower of Heaven is a giant lacrima, Erza. Have faith.”

She stared not at him but at the burning ball of brightness fast approaching. She asked, “Will you untie me? If I might die, I don’t want to do it with my hands bound. I don’t—I don’t want to be a prisoner anymore.”

Jellal didn’t question her; he knew what it was to be tired of shackles. He took the knife from his pocket and sliced through her bonds. The ropes fell just as the tower started to hum; he could feel it through his feet, echoing up into his skull. Jellal told her, “If the Etherion does destroy the tower like you think, I'm glad you're with me." Just in case.

The light brightened. "I'm afraid."

Hearing her say that aloud was painful. “I know. I’m sorry.” His eyes were burning again.

Erza picked him apart with little effort. “You’re scared too.”

“Yes. It’s better now, though.” Mostly.

Erza tried again. “Jellal, it doesn’t have to be like—”

“It does,” he said sharply. Even if he said it couldn’t, it wouldn’t make it true, and he was done lying to Erza. He watched her raptly, memorizing her because while he was _fairly_ confident the tower would hold, there were a lot of variables to consider. A lot of things that could go wrong. _This could be it._ “Did you think you deserved it?”

Erza blinked dark eyes at him. “Deserved what?”

“Your freedom. When you left, did you think you deserved it?”

It took her a moment to respond. “Yes.”

“I’ve never felt that way,” he admitted. “Even if I wasn’t trapped here… I’d never walk free of the guilt. I’ve done so much…” The lacrima beneath his feet started to glow.

Erza lifted her hands and cupped his cheeks. “The world probably won’t ever forgive your sins, but if we’re going to die, then know that I do.”

He waited to see a thread of maliciousness lurking behind her eyes, something to tell him that she didn’t really mean what she said. There was nothing. Her words were genuine. And unfair. She wasn’t supposed to forgive him. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I love you,” Erza said simply. “Nothing I do—nothing _you_ do seems to change that.”

Way down below, waves crashed against the base of the tower. A similar sound had lulled Jellal to sleep for so many nights, years and years before, though back then they weren’t quite so wild.

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do.” She rose on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his mouth. Though he returned her kiss like a starving man, his lips shook under hers and he knew that he was more afraid of this than she was.

Jellal wrapped his arms around her back and held her close while the world turned bright, bright white, _she forgives me_ circling again and again in his thoughts. Beneath his feet, the ground began to break apart, large chunks of the tower shucking off and falling into the ocean, revealing the lacrima beneath the casing. It was clearer than diamond. Erza’s arms tightened around his neck; she deepened their kiss.

_She forgives me and I’m going to let her die._

_Don’t feel guilty._

After all, that was how it was _supposed_ to be.

Erza died. Zeref came back. And then Jellal would kill himself to join the woman he loved.

That was how it was _supposed_ to go.

_Then why do I feel so sick?_

The girl clutching his neck trembled. The air got so incredibly hot. So incredibly dense. The tower vibrated and hummed. The lacrima’s glow brightened.

_The Etherion is coming._

No. It wasn’t coming. It was there. Clutching Erza like a lifeline, Jellal pinched his eyes closed and kept his mouth against hers. Faintly, he could feel her chest rising and falling frantically, her heart beating against her ribs.

_Or maybe it’s yours._

The ground shook so violently they were forced to break their kiss, the Etherion blast crushing them to their knees. White noise filled the tower. His skin burned. Erza held him and screamed, though the sound was lost in the roar of magic. Jellal joined her. It hurt. The magic hurt. Even as the tower swallowed it up, some Etherion escaped.

And then, as abruptly as it had started, it stopped. Down below, the water settled. The light died. The noise…

Had changed.

Now the world was filled with a hum and crackling. Jellal forced his eyes open and blinked them clear. The first thing he saw was the scarlet of Erza’s hair. Always scarlet. Then her wide, scared eyes and her red lips quivering. A deafening crack made him release her so he could clap his hands to his ears. “What is that?” Though he raised his voice to as loud as it could go, it still sounded muffled to his ears.

“The lacrima is breaking,” Erza screamed back.

Jellal was in the midst of denying her when the whole tower shifted and a thread of pure Etherion leaked out just feet away. “Why?” he asked dazedly. Then he shook himself. _This is it. You have to work quickly._ If he was going to bring Zeref back…

Standing, he grabbed Erza’s wrist and yanked her to her feet. Her ankle twisted in her high heels. He pulled her close and stabilized her. Except the tower grumbled again and more power burst out of the crystalline structure, throwing them off balance. Jellal lurched, doing everything he could to keep upright.

 _Now. Do it now._ It was hard, working up the courage to kill her.

The next groan that came from the tower sounded like steel grinding against stone, long and shrill. The biggest leak yet was sprung, and just over Erza’s shoulder. The girl twisted and yelped; her shoulder was burned.

 _It’s not going to work,_ Jellal realized with a start. The tower was falling apart. “Why isn’t it holding?”

“It’s too much power. We have to get out of here!”

“No!” _Work fast._ Kill Erza before he was ready. Kill her before it was too late. “I have to resurrect him!” He imagined Erza bleeding from a hole where her heart used to be. _Use your magic and make it so._ Power gathered in his hand. But he choked.

“Please!” Erza grabbed the hand that held the magic, obviously uncaring that it pricked her skin and made her itch and burn, and started pulling him towards the open ledge. He didn’t move, muttering, ‘ _I have to_ ,’ again and again.

“Jellal!”

He tried to explain it to her. “I waited so many years—I worked so _hard_.” Had dreamed so _long_. The magic fizzled from his fingers.

Erza screamed, “Jellal— _please—_ the tower is going to explode. We have to get away!”

He knew she was right; the tower was failing. Soon there would be nothing left. _So kill her. While the tower is holding. There’s time._ He grabbed her by the hem of her dress and pulled her back. _Just one shot._ She was so fragile without her armour. Soft. Capable of bleeding and dying.

_For Zeref._

Again he gathered magic in his hand. Erza, reading his intent, blinked at him morosely and summoned one of her short swords. “Maybe you can take my life without remorse, but if I have to kill you… it’s something I’ll carry with me until I die. Will you make me do it?”

Jellal looked at her shining sword and imagined it sliding through his chest. “You know I can’t stop. Please.”

_Please kill me._

“Erza—”

She gathered his meaning. “How can you ask me that?”

Unafraid of her sword, he stole a kiss, putting into that motion all of the things he meant but felt inadequate when put into words.

Erza pushed away from him. “You don’t want to die, and you don’t really want to kill me. Stop pretending.”

 _Pretender._ “I’m—”

“I can see it in your eyes, Jellal,” Erza said. “Just come—”

Jellal pressed in on his temples when it felt like too much. “Stop. Stop it. Stop trying to confuse me.”

“I’m not. I only want to help you.”

“Stop it!” _Just kill her and she’ll be silent._ He tried to find his conviction, but he felt so hollow looking into Erza’s frightened eyes. _I did this._

The ground rumbled, sending them almost to their knees. Erza caught him by the arms and steadied both of them. “Come on, Jellal. Let me take care of you. We’ll be together and I’ll never, ever leave. Not anymore.”

They could do it. He could be with her. Clearly, he could imagine them being together. This time, Erza’s eyes would be dry. She’d laugh. Not cry. She’d breathe. Not bleed. _It was possible._ He knew it. Except…

“We’ll never make it.”

“Yes, we will.”

No, they wouldn’t. Not together. The Etherion was leaking out at an alarming rate, on the brink of explosion, and with no one fused to the tower and nowhere to direct the energy… they were both going to die and it was going to be for nothing.

Mouth dry, he asked, “You thought of me?”

“What?” Erza blinked at him, confused.

“When you escaped the tower when we were kids. You thought of me?”

She answered immediately and honestly. “Every day.”

Jellal caught her face between his hands and looked into her eyes. “And would you have taken me with you?”

“I wanted to, Jellal. You know I did.”

He did know.

Directly over her heart, he pressed his palm against her chest. “I’m sorry, Erza. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better. I’m sorry you’re here.”

Magic came this time and Erza fell. Watching her spiral down was bittersweet. She was getting what she deserved.

Freedom. Maybe.

Pain. Most definitely.

Blood and midnight.

Her chest was leaking blood. Her eyes were seeing midnight.

She was falling.

Falling over the edge of the tower.

Down into the ocean.

Away from the explosion that was relentlessly coming.

Jellal looked over the ledge and watched her splash way down below. Watched the scarlet fizzle in the inky water.

_Maybe she’ll drown._

Maybe.

Maybe she’d find the floating leavings of the Tower of Heaven and paddle to safety.

Maybe she’d die of dehydration.

Or… or maybe she’d continue on, stronger than ever. Fire in a world born aflame.

Jellal closed his eyes and let the tower take him.


	16. Chapter 16

_Scarlet is on my mind._

_Always._

_Scarlet._

_At first I don’t know why. I don’t know why I can’t stop searching for the colour. I don’t know why I can’t get it out of my thoughts. I don’t know why it sticks in my throat like poison._

_And then I remember. I remember_ everything.

_Most of the times I love her._

_The times I don’t…_

_They’re ugly._

_Scarlet._

_Erza._

_Erza Scarlet._

_Erza Scarlet and her scarlet hair._

* * *

 

The rose’s sharp thorns cut through Erza’s palm. It wasn’t the first she received, and it wouldn’t be the last.

They were red.

Like scarlet.


End file.
